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ghostarii · 13 days

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ECSTASY, FULL OF FREEDOM, PIERRO & CHILDE

ʚɞ unbound in the throes of ecstasy; free from strenuous morality and worldly tethers, you are where you belong. he knows your heart is strung on another, but he also knows that he can’t please you the way he can.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, stepcest, AGE GAP!!!, stepdad!pierro, ft. boyfriend!childe, ddlg themes, daddy kink, spit, possessive!pierro, infidelity, fingering, exhibitionism, face - fucking, dacryphilia, breeding, dry humping, manipulation, corruption kink, finger - sucking, cum eating / swallowing, spanking, praise, degradation, pet names, orgasm ruining / control, just.. just icky pierro, minors & dc antis do not interact.

NOTE ݈݇- ummmm 😅😅😅 welcum back me i guess ! ! !this is prob the most debauched thing ive ever written so nice comments n reblogs would be happily appreciated :3 this went a totally different way than i planned toward the end n it got pretty rushed but i hope u guys like it anyway

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 10.2k

BURNING, WHITE, HEAT. A surge of hellfire courses through your veins and it takes every semblance of power in you to not explode. Your thighs are tightly clenched, attempting to crush his ministrations but dexterous fingers are lengthy enough to continuously tease you. A featherlight brushing against your folds is enough to make you shiver against the warmth. You damn near slam your elbow on top of the table and bash your forehead against your palm, hiding the pleasure on your face as best as you can.

Pierro thinks you must figure him as a fool. He must be stupid to you—a blind idiot—if you think you can get away with this. He stifles down a grunt of disbelief with a sip of his water, deciding to no longer pay attention to the slight quakes of your body.

His eyes are instead fixed on the source of your tremors: the smug redhead who thinks he’s so clever. His left arm lightly jitters behind the table and if he were an idiot, Pierro might have ignored it. He might have ignored how close you two got. He might have even ignored the moans you quietly let slip. But he is no idiot. He is perceptive and right now, he is very angry.

He tries to hide it, to keep the daggers he stares at bay but his patience is thinning by the minute. Ignorance cannot be bliss when it is infiltrated—Pierro tries to turn a blind eye to your deeds but he is not allowed to. When the quiet of the upscale restaurant meets its lowest and your conversation has briefly halted for the allowance of enjoying your meal, his ears can pick up the leaking, sticky path your boyfriend’s fingers take. The sudden hitch in your breath and the calm slosh, slosh from between your legs is a dead giveaway and he can't help but look. He can't help but chew the inside of his cheek instead of his steak and grunt. Anything but, and he might blow the lid off his pristine demeanor.

Those eyes are sharp and you narrowly avoid their threat. You keep your eyes straight and only rarely do you spend a glance at Ajax. He finds pleasure in the way you tighten around his fingers when he presses that spot, right when your mother inquires about another insignificant detail about his life. He likes how you scratch the denim of his pants instead of the table, wordlessly begging him to stop as he brings you closer and closer—

It feels too good; the edging, the twirling, the danger—it births a reward too precious to sacrifice and that's why you don't stop him. You soil your panties and make a fool of yourself, making your mother pause the conversation one too many times to clarify your well-being. It’d be humiliating if it didn't feel so good.

With your thighs tightly clasped around his wrist and your heartbeat pounding through your clit, your orgasm just teeters at the edge, stray streams leaking to be caught on Ajax’s hand. He sends you a look of faux concern and you can just barely fight the urge to bare two rows of teeth at him menacingly.

Pierro, who has utterly capped his limit on how much of this shit he can take, opens his mouth to spew a question that may just humiliate you if you don't play your cards right. He’s a jest—his fun derives from the toil of others and you are his perfect target right now. Serves you right.

The words are quickly snatched from his mouth to his wife’s as soon as the words form on his tongue. A look of disdain is fought off as she tenderly asks you for the nth time, “Are you sure you’re feeling well, sweetie?”

You can lie to her with no problem. To him is where the difficulty arises and this moment, where your eyes have glossed and your body has folded, he could have blown up your whole spot. Ajax plays off the hand between your legs as though it’s on your stomach, using his right hand to gently rest against your shoulder and slowly pull you up.

She’s the idiot Ajax thinks Pierro is. The kind, not-all-there, and not wholly caring idiot who lets dirt build right under her nose—it’s no surprise that she lets you off with that pitiful “I’m okay…just some bad cramping,”.

“I’m sorry,” you breathlessly apologize, presumably coming down from your high. “I should…I think we should cut this short. I’m honestly not feeling too well…”

“Are you sure? You don't..wanna finish..?” Ajax asks you. The smile he hides peeks out behind his feigned frown and the innuendo immediately dawns on you.

Flustered and more embarrassed than you thought you would have been, you lock in your eyes a pitiful stare of Enough. As if that would stop his torment.

His hand slides from between your legs and rests against your thigh, sticky, wet fingertips tapping against your thigh…taunting you. Questioning you.

Your mother patiently awaits your answer as her eyes swivel around in search of a waiter while Pierro continues his glaring assault. There's a narrowing of his eyes that he continuously enacts, as if to warn you, to beg you to try it if you dare. Disobeying him is a thing you've never done but this sly motherfucker beside you has pushed you to try your luck.

“I mean…I do want to—but, I don't think I can. At least, not here, not right now…” you slide your bottom lip between your teeth gingerly, pleading eyes boring into Ajax’s. A look that’s commonly reserved for Pierro, and for the first time, angers him to see it.

Ajax fights back his grin but fails desperately. He nods, turning to face your mother and stepfather. “Well, we should get the princess home and taken care of, shouldn't we?”

Your mother takes the time to gush, drawing out an amused awwww at the pair of you, wrapping around her husband's arm and leaning against it. “How sweet! Isn't he sweet, Pi?”

Staring directly at you, with nothing but a blatant grimace, Pierro nods. “Very sweet.”

Timidly, you avoid his gaze. It does you no favor, either way.

She continues her rambling and all of it goes in one ear and out of the other. Pierro cannot stop staring. Ajax whispering in your ear and the grip you have on his shirt. The glisten that’s wiped off his fingers and thrown haphazardly atop his meal scraps. The devious, wide smile that hasn't been shaken this entire encounter…

Pierro has never wanted to slap someone more. Even more so, he’s never been this angry with you.

“You got the bill, right, hon?” Your mom asks him, the first one of her sentences to penetrate his thoughts.

You and Ajax are standing beside the table now, his hand comfortably resting low on your hip and your body slotted against his. From where he sits, Pierro can smell you. The familiar, decadent sweetness wasted against your thighs calling out to his memory and begging the perversion to rise from the dark recesses and take you against the table— and it only gets worse when he raises his sight to look at you, only to be able to catch the slightest glimpse of your soaked panties pushed to the side.

He looks you in the eyes, a look you hate to see awaiting you when you return the favor.

Pierro nods, turning to your mother with an almost pained smile. “Of course.”

Back to the two of you, gaze sharpened and narrowed, he continues, “You two should go on ahead.”

Ajax is quick to take the dismissal with a cheery grin. One that—more than anything else tonight—pisses Pierro off. “Ah, thanks, Mr. A! Here,” he takes a minute to fish his wallet out of his pocket, “For our part and the tip,”

To you, his attention turns. “Are you ready to go?”

You say nothing but nod instead. Your eyes can't help but surf to your stepdad and you almost offer him a look of pity—a gleam of sorry in your eyes. He spares you not a single look, and with Ajax’s upbeat parting words, the two of you slip away hand-in-hand.

Your mother’s smile is proud. It’s proud, and certain, and genuine, and it makes Pierro angry. Right now, he could expose you to your mother and make everything worse.

“I like him, hon. For her, especially…I’d say it’s perfect but I don't wanna jinx it,” your mother giggles. Pierro’s eye twitches. It takes everything in him to relax because, truly, Ajax has done nothing wrong.

He might be nothing short of perfect and possibly the best thing that could ever happen to you and yet, Pierro can't find it in himself to be happy. That anger is a gnarled form of envy that paints him green. And it’s by the grace of God that nobody but the only one who matters can see that fervent shade on his skin.

He keeps up the charade with your mother with another strained smile. “Yeah, good for her.” He sounds less than enthused but for her sake, she does not pry.

Pierro wants to hate Ajax. It makes it so much harder that he cannot.

━━━━━━

Pierro’s eyes are a beautiful shade of blue. A crystalline gleam—meant to light up under the sky and shimmer like a star of hope. Looking into his eyes gives a cool mystique that urges you to get lost in them. Oftentimes, you do, finding that at the end, awaits you is a warmth far too comforting.

It’s different when those eyes glare back at you. Boring into your very being with a scrutinizing narrowing over every little mistake. The dimness of the house intensifies their stare to the point that you can feel them before you see them.

Your breathing is almost shallow as you trek up the stairs and your eyes are wide and shifty. Your heartbeat has turned irregular and is skipping beats—the mere uncertainty he imposes working overtime in unnerving you. Pierro is not nice when things don't go his way. Even worse, he’s unpredictable. Mostly, he’s vile.

What awaits you is only a mystery that you wish to leave boxed.

Approaching him at the top of the stairs, you slide your hand into his gingerly, hoping that the kindness will grant you some leniency. “I’m sorry I’m late..” you gulp. “I— We— Ajax had stopped to—”

With your hand in his, Pierro has power over your autonomy. He pulls you into him, using his left hand to slot against your waist and hold you against him. Everything he does is in complete silence and it unsettles you.

His eyes rake over you time and time again in the same span of seconds. Your face, near fearful and apologetic, to your upper body, stiff and unsure, to your lower half, turned in on itself and now, of all times, prioritizing modesty. Now, you seem to have an ounce of shame and Pierro can't call it anything but pitiful.

He lets a beat of silence pass with you in his arms. “You’ve disappointed me.”

You part your lips in a silent gasp, wholly surprised that he hasn't tossed you around yet. To his statement, you respond with a light clutch of his button-up — and to that, Pierro huffs. He’s not hearing your crocodile tears and unenthused excuses so you can save it.

“I’m upset that you let that happen. You let him touch you like that in front of me…” His fingers tickle up your back and you instinctively press into him more. A frown stretches over your face - mostly out of concern for where this is leading. Partially because his words genuinely do hold weight.

Raising your head to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry, Daddy,” leaves your mouth incredibly timidly.

His eyes are softer when meeting yours. It almost seems as though he’s immediately forgiven you and in the wake of that thought, you feel better. You feel like leaning into him further is no longer a gesture of fear but comfort. So you lean impossibly closer, nuzzling your head against his chest comfortably. His feigned sense of security has you under his palm like an idiot — a blind fool in the lion’s den.

“Did you like it? Did it feel good…better?” He purrs, lips moving against your head as he kisses you. That's enough to muffle his words but you hear him clearly. The tenderness he exudes works to juxtapose against his instigating words.

“Well…”

“Well?” He catches your trail. He tightens his arms around your body and traps you against him.

It’s almost oppressive; you’d say so if it wasn't for the familiarity it brings. But it contrasts with the grit in his tone — a sharpened edge prodding at you menacingly, just waiting for you to say the wrong thing to impale you.

With a gulp too audible coming from you, you shrug warily. As much as you want to, you can't lie to him. “It wasn't better…but it wasn't bad…”

Humorous. What a humorous attempt at trying to not anger him further; Pierro has to stifle a laugh at your expense but you can feel the humility.

“Did you cum?” He asks straightforwardly. His left hand trickles down your back and brushes against your waist. His fingers brush the hem of your skirt out of the way and slide to grope your ass, using one finger to slip between your thighs and collect the wetness. At that, he notes the lack of underwear. You, so daring, so racy, let that asshole take your panties as a souvenir. His voice grows deeper—angrier—as he inquires further. “Did you cry his name? Maybe you called him baby. Maybe daddy—”

“No!” You interject, a bit too loudly, at that. “No—I didn't. I would never.” Because you’re my daddy—you choose to omit that part.

He only laughs. Somewhat menacingly, but brightened when your eyes catch his grin. “Do you want me to praise you for that?”

“Do you think you deserve that?” There’s no escaping his questioning; you're trapped. He knows you hate being talked down to—you hate the confrontation, the disappointment, the dissatisfaction with you and he does it on purpose. He catches the way you avoid looking at him and blink rapidly, airing away the mist that comes to paint your eyes.

It takes you a moment to shake your head no, your entire face dropping at the action. You were wrong, you were bad, and now he won't be nice to you. He's going to use you, he's going to fuck you up and make you wish you'd denied Ajax altogether.

“I’m glad you know that.” He says, condescendingly. “I’m going to show you what you deserve.”

With his gruff admission, the hand on your ass grips tighter and you gasp silently. When your eyes meet once more, he sends you a look that you know all too well: one you can't say no to, and one you’ve grown to not ever want to say no to.

Your toes are bent as you push yourself up to meet his face, arms naturally sliding up and around his broad shoulders.

Lips closer than they've been in weeks and eyes locked more seriously than this entire night, you two fall into a pit of risk, leaning closer and closer. You try to lean in and he only offers you a ghostly peck. Breaths fanning each other and lips gingerly caressing the other, Pierro utters out one last request: “Say you deserve it.”

He controls your body spiritually — a carnal desire is unleashed within you that makes you stupidly want him, pressing your lips against his softly, wantonly, “I deserve it.”

It’s obvious that you give into him. Stumbling into that bed of forbidden desire, tangling in the sheets of lust.

Pierro wastes no time in pulling you into your bedroom, covering your tracks with the hallway light flickered off and your door locked. He’s overzealous and nearly rips your clothes off of you, every touch housing a raging, impassioned fire.

You let it happen — letting him guide your way and taking control. Your mouths slot and move alongside one another disgustingly perfectly and if it didn't feel so fucking right, you’d grimace and scream your head off. Instead, you take him down with you, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him on top of you, needing him more than you should.

The world becomes a mere distant memory as he licks into your mouth, finding your tongue to dance with and suck on. Your legs stretched around his body allows him to bunch your skirt up, grinding his clothed hard-on against your bare cunt. Kisses are subsequently broken by squeaky moans and you, a puddle under his touch, can do nothing but that—leaning your head back when the friction overcomes you and kissing back is no longer a priority.

Sloppy, wet kisses trail from your mouth to your cheek, then to your ear, then down your neck, then to your collarbone. Your somewhat modest neckline is then pushed out of his way, allowing him to lay a barrage of kisses against your skin.

No words are exchanged verbally but in every action they’re screamed. Pierro wants to lay claim on you, to purify your body after being defiled by the redheaded miscreant you call a boyfriend. You went out of his sight and returned with a pest on your hip and nothing besides anger overcame him. In all its jagged forms: envy, bitterness, resentment, desire—Pierro had been waiting to take you down again, to remind you who you truly belong to.

He sucks and nips fervently at the skin until you whimper and wince and unknowingly confirm the existence of a mark there. An uneven, ugly blotch to claim you as his.

This is repeated across the expanse of your neck and chest, an uneven pattern drawn in his wake. When he pulls off of you, your face is knitted in shocked pleasure and your body chases him: hips bucking toward the air in desperate search. He hangs over you, using one hand to grab your cheeks and squish them up. You're so fucking cute, he could chew you up—among other things—but right now, he coos menacingly at you. “Cute.”

When he fully removes himself from you, sitting beside you, you know what awaits you. When the clattering of his belt hits your ears, you know what you need to do.

What you need to do is show your daddy his place in your world; so, begrudgingly, you sweep yourself up onto your knees.

His hand comes to the back of your head to softly cradle you and you lean into it, fluttering your lashes at him in hopes of receiving his leniency. He, however, is a punisher, and your knife in his back won’t be forgiven so easily.

“You’re so lucky I even touched you,” he grits. His thumb strokes your cheek and creates this sense of security. It’d be calming if you didn't know him. “Am I not enough for you anymore?”

“You are,” you pout. “It’s just—I like Ajax, too. I’m confused…”

He sits up slightly, capturing your glossy gaze in his. “Do you like Ajax or love me?”

His eyes flicker to your clutched thighs and you cower slightly, feeling the regret caving in your chest. The pout you sport curves wider and Pierro almost smiles at how easy it is to dig at you.

You open your mouth to answer but he shushes you, shaking his head no. The hand on your cheek runs to your backside and palms your ass, slapping the flesh with intensity. The sound rings off of the walls and the impact resounds in your body, rippling through with an itching sting left in its wake. You whimper and look up at him, watery eyes meeting a merciless crystal blue. Tenderly rubbing the spot, he continues, “Show me.”

You do what you're told and that's what Pierro cherishes about you. That's what makes him red in anger at the pure idea of you showing this to anyone else—being this for anyone else.

Ajax doesn't deserve a sweet girl like you. He can't take care of a sweet girl like you.

And you can't take care of a man the way you take care of Pierro. He won't allow it.

You manage to pull his cock from behind the waistband of his boxers. He’s pulsing furiously in your palm and the weight he carries makes how feverishly he’s been needing you painfully apparent. He leaks a creamy stream of pre and it awaits your attention. Just the light hold you keep on his shaft elicits a groan from the man and his hips involuntarily buck upward, wordlessly signaling his need for you.

The slightly salty bead swims onto your tongue as you kitten lick the tip, gingerly beginning to stroke half circles around his cock.

He clears his throat, slamming his palm against your cheek again, “Don’t tease, baby. Take it in.”

You oblige his request and slide him onto your tongue. You hollow your cheeks and grimace as you try to fit as much of him into your mouth. Slobber dribbles out of your mouth and cascades down his length, creating a moat above the hand you keep tight around his base.

The longer you keep him there, the harsher your gags get — you sputter around his girth before pulling up for air, gasping in a dramatic heap of air. He chuckles at you and uses his thumb to wipe away a string of spit on your cheek.

“You can do better than that,” he coos. “Go deeper.”

Again, you pull your lips as wide as they can stretch around him. You try to swing your tongue around his girth as skillfully as you can accomplish, swiping at the prominent vein that beats for you.

He groans out a curse, throwing his head back while simultaneously gripping the back of your head. “Deeper,” he growls.

You try to slink deeper, but he presses at your reflex, a messy series of gags slopping around his dick. Still, you persevere: unfolding your lips to wrap around his girth and suck harshly.

“Shit,” he drawls, pushing your head down further. “Just like that; you’re so fucking good for Daddy.”

Your hands move to his thighs and attempt to claw at them, but you're left gripping his slacks. Your mouth quickly becomes tired as you try, and the light bob you facilitate grows weak. Subsequently, Pierro takes control: placing both hands on your head and pushing you down.

You swallow around him but it doesn't subdue the echo of your gagging. He bottoms out in your mouth and you can do nothing but sputter and choke, letting a lake of slobber spill down his length.

It becomes messy extremely fast with Pierro on the reigns. He thrusts into your mouth in tandem with pulling your head down, creating a nasty rhythm that you can only be a variable to.

“That’s it, princess,” he praises breathily. The smile you try to make goes unnoticed, but the swarm in your stomach doesn't.

He’s relentless and desperate, only offering reprieve when your eyes grow foggy and your breathing shallow. His hips stutter and his balls throb—Pierro is on the brink of pleasure that no amount of imagination can give him. Your mouth is a warm piece of heaven that warms and leaks all over him, soiling his pants in a mixture of spit bubbles and precum. It’s nasty, but it’s your nasty: something only you can do for him. He has you in the palm of his hand, doing exactly what he wants, being exactly who he wants you to be, and he couldn't ask for you to be more perfect. His palm cracks down again on your ass, almost as a sign of commemoration.

Gray brows are furrowed and knitted and the struggle to keep his eyes trained on you is real. Every time the back of your throat squeezes around his cock head he chokes on a guttural moan, your praises gliding off his tongue like butter. The arrangement is near perfect and it’s doing its weight in placing pleasure upon the man. He’s at pleasure’s mercy and finds himself in the pits of thought, stumbling upon the feeling of love. Pierro has found true escape in you and everything you can do for him and that is why he can't let you go.

He can't let you go—not when you whine around his dick and send him the most perfect vibrations, pushing his orgasm over the edge.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses. He holds your head tightly in place, not allowing you a bit of space to move as he cums. “Take it all…yeah—”

A series of hushed, deep, groans escape from his mouth as thick splashes of cum spill into your mouth. The spurts pool on your tongue and the fullness of your mouth becomes too much to bear. Your warning slaps on his thighs let him know to let you come up, and with your cheeks bubbled to hold his release, you breathe your first breath of cool air.

He chuckles at your expression, holding out his hand for you to lean into once again. “Open up.”

You take a moment to swallow before brandishing your tongue to him. He grins proudly, glaring at you with a soft expression. You wrap your hands around his arm, kissing the heel of his palm before nuzzling your cheek against it again. Fluttery eyelashes are passed at him as you gingerly inquire, “Did I do good, Daddy?”

“Great, baby.” He confirms, sitting up. “I knew my girl could do it. You always can, always so good for me.”

The praises go straight to your core and reawaken the unfinished business he left you with. He knows what to say to make you melt and unfortunately, you do. Melting in his palm makes you susceptible to anything he says. It's only a given that when he asks you again, “You’re going to be my girl forever, right?” you answer immediately with a strong nod.

At that, his confident grin grows and he leans forward, pulling you into a kiss.

The taste of his cum is prominent on your tongue and he sucks the flavor off, gathering it in his mouth before distributing it back into yours. It's nasty and he repeats it until your head is hazy and you're chasing his lips. His hand around your neck is able to hold you up just centimeters away from his lips.

“Don’t forget who you belong to.”

━━━━━━

Yellow is your color.

Pierro thinks the color compliments you beautifully—like you were meant to bask under a golden kiss of sun. He likes the way it snugs in your curves, unable to hold back your supple skin with its thin tethers. It’s too much for the world to see — a sight supposedly for Pierro’s eyes only — but you trot around without a care in your bubbly head. That, in itself, does not bother him; Ajax on the other side of the door, does.

Ajax catching you in his arms bothers Pierro. The man can't help but stare from his viewpoint, following Ajax’s wandering hands from the small of your back to the curve of your ass. He unabashedly palms the skin and you only giggle, smothering his face in welcome kisses and strawberry lipgloss.

When your feet are back on the ground, you're nuzzling against him as if you’re scared of detaching from him, and he wears that same coy grin as always, wrapping an arm around your body as you begin to lead him toward the backyard. You speak indistinctly and Pierro’s envious glare seems to have no effect on you. Ajax senses it, however; and as though he is throwing it in Pierro’s face, he pulls you closer as his free arm raises to wave at your stepfather: “Hey, Mr. A!” Leaves his mouth cheerfully.

The grimace Pierro wears is only half-stifled and he doesn't care to fix his face. He nods at the young man, “Hello to you too, Ajax.”

You avoid his gaze skillfully but that look of guilt is not missed. That only irritates Pierro further: his thick eyebrows furrow and his lips waver downwards. If you know it's bad, why do you keep doing this?

It must be a beckoning of his attention—and if that’s the case, you have it wholly in the palms of your hands.

Again, you speak hushedly to your boy toy. Pierro’s eyes hone in on the movement of your lips: so soft, so tender, so kind as they murmur against Ajax’s ear. Whatever you say is undetermined by Pierro — but judging from the stiffly excited mannerisms Ajax thereafter enacts, he can only imagine.

“We were going to head out to the pool…” Finally, you address him.

Confidence is strongly prominent in your voice despite your trailing off. Compared to the soft, undefiant tone you usually direct toward your daddy, your strength is all-telling: Ajax has built up an over-confident backbone in you. Not so luckily for you, Pierro has no qualms about breaking it down.

So, instead of shooting his ire through glaring daggers, Pierro smirks. He smirks and shrugs with one shoulder, following the action by gulping down the final swig of his midday pick-me-up. “Alright then,”

“Have fun.” The words are supposed to be encouraging but, if anything, they're daunting.

The air gets tense, noticeably so. Ajax awkwardly clears his throat and the intense staring match you and Pierro hold is severed. Your eyes shift to the ginger and you force a convincing grin to pull at your lips. “Let's go.”

Ajax lets you lead the way, purposely avoiding looking at Pierro. In your thirty-second trek to the backyard door, his gaze only intensifies. Holes are burned into your back and you shoot straight up when his voice calls out to you again. You act as though you're in a horror movie: slowly turning your head over your shoulder for fear of what awaits your back end.

“The guests’ll be arriving soon,” he informs. “Your mother’s going to be back and finish setting up out there.”

His information seems to be his acknowledgment of your transgressions. You plan to defile his claim on you in the very home he takes you down in—he’ll be damned if you cross that line.

You’re playing a dangerous game with no incentive for you. As he departs, stalking away upstairs to get a clear view of your actions from his office, the thought that maybe, just maybe, his frustration is your incentive, brings a smile to his face.

That thought dawns the idea on him that he has created an insatiable, debauched monster, and it's in his hands to tame her.

To you, you don't know what you're doing.

You like Ajax. You like the way he treats you, the way he talks to you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you—you’re chasing his lips desperately as he pins you against the wall of the pool, wanting to take him under the water and drown with him. Maybe then, that icky turmoil brewing in your stomach would subside.

You like Ajax; you want him. But you need Pierro. Even as your boyfriend kisses you feverishly, your eyes are wide and glued to the second-story window that you know Pierro is watching you out of.

He gives you something that you hate to require. Those big, buff arms wrap around you, and those chapped, experienced lips speak words of comfort to you that all your life, you've only ever wanted. Pierro promises to love you forever, be there for you forever, and protect you forever — he promises to be the sole male constant in your life: the only man you’ll ever need. You're inclined to believe him because he’s made everything you've ever wanted come true. But—Ajax; those things can come from him, too.

His kisses are softer than Pierro’s but just as impassioned—if not more. He’s receptive to your impatience, licking his way into your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours messily. Moaning into your mouth to let you know that the tugs on his hair feel good, gripping onto your waist to grind your clothed cunt against his knee, pulling apart and cracking a smile at the connected string of spit that hangs from your puffy lips, telling you in a hushed whisper “I missed you,” to butter you up and melt you in his palms. Ajax is nicer with how he treats you. He kisses down your neck to punctuate his sentence. His kisses halt their trail at the apex of your collarbone, leaving his eyes to peer up at you wantonly.

“I missed you too,” you breathe out. You did miss him and his delicacy. Your eyes flash up to the window and you feel relief at the unmoved curtains — returning your gaze to your boyfriend and smiling at him. Inviting Ajax to your parents’ pool party was your way of convincing yourself. What happened between you and Pierro can be replicated with someone who you can be with and someone who can be with you.

What you want is that trophy love: that pedestal in someone's heart for every envious eye to watch you atop of. You want to be loved loudly and proudly, and Ajax can do that and so much more, for you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and he leans into your touch, craning leftward. He looks at you with wide, beating hearts in his eyes, and you bite your lip to hold back a smile. “I think we have a few minutes alone…”

Those hearts turn into a mischievous sparkle, “I can work with that.”

Quickly, he’s reconnecting your lips as his right hand wanders from your waist to beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms. You gasp into your kiss as his middle finger surfs through your folds, immediately prodding at your entrance.

“Don’t tease,” you whisper, briefly looking over his shoulder. You catch a glimpse of movement behind the curtains and it halts your breath. “We don't have time,”

He laughs against your face, smooching from your lips to across your cheek and to your ear. He nips the lobe just as he pushes the tip of his finger in and you move your hold onto his shoulders, gripping tightly. His tongue flicks gently at your ear as his finger slowly inches in, and with its slender length, beats of quiet breathing and airflow pass before he’s knuckle deep. “You wouldn't mind getting caught,”

The digit is swiveled around before he presses the rough pad of his finger against your gummy sweet spot. You hold in a moan by biting your bottom lip but the sound leaks out in weakened whines. “You never have before.”

Anyone could see what you're doing and that thought births nothing but excitement coursing through your veins. Your pleasured scowl quickly stretches into a grin— and Ajax catches it, kissing your chin.

Soon, your hole is accommodating the entrance of his ring finger. The digits are thereafter scissored inside of your pussy and the water around the two of you ripples furiously. Your boyfriend has never been particular about being discreet and this occasion is no different—if anything, he’s showing off. At least, Pierro seems to think so.

Pleasure blinds your eyes so the man standing in the window is missed by you. Every bit of your awareness is being fingered out of you; Ajax’s agile fingers dancing around in your hole seemingly spooning out your senses. Nothing, save for the hot source of ecstasy pooling in your core, matters to you. You're grinding down on his fingers, whining out wantonly as low as you can but it's in vain—your sweet, pleasured hymns can be picked out by Pierro’s ears.

It irritates him but he does not stop watching. He can't—not when you're about to cum and you're gripping so tightly on Ajax. You're leaning over the edge of the pool and scratching your back against the rough gravel with desperate abandon. The movement of your lips is unidentifiable from his distance, but knowing you, you're probably pitifully begging for him to make you cum.

Ajax has the liberty of controlling your pleasure and he does so amateurly. When you plead once again, babbling out his name, Ajax obliges. He says to you, unheard by Pierro, “I’ve got you, baby. Cum on my fingers.”

His fingers curl and roll against your spot and your moans are ringing out unabashedly. If your mother or the guests were to arrive and stroll up your driveway, there’s no doubt they wouldn't be able to hear your laments over the bushes. Carelessly and blissfully, you sing your boyfriend’s praises as he presses you toward your climax, wriggling his fingers inside of your tightened hole through your orgasm.

Pierro watches you shake and jump under his touch and his eye twitches. Here you are, parading your freedom in front of him again. He’d turn you out and worse in that pool if it wasn't for your mother. She is his way to get to you and if she were to find out how he defiles her daughter in ways he doesn't dare do to her, he’d be deprived of his vice.

He doesn't notice the white knuckle grip he keeps on the window sill until his fingers begin to ache. Pierro is envious of a red-haired prick half his age and size and he couldn't be more embarrassed. It would be you—only you—to make these juvenile feelings rise so fervently within him.

The way Pierro feels for you is skewed and indecent and so, so raw. It’s unexplainable in simple words and he doesn't dare waste his breath on telling you sugary things to make you stay. He claims you, bares all of his imperfections to you as you do him, and anchors you to the bottom of his endless pit of debauchery alongside him. Yet, you can still swim out of his grasp and into the slimy hands of another like-minded, perverse predator and that won't do.

His body is moving before he can scramble up an excuse to intrude on the two of you. Unaware of his appearance, you're slipping your hand into Ajax’s swim trunks, passing your thumb over his slit featherlightly.

He sighs out shakily, grabbing your forearm. “We shouldn't start something we can't finish.”

You, full of confidence and arousal, flash your signature, convincing doe eyes up at him. “We should’ve thought about that earlier then.” You rebut, leaning in to kiss him just as you begin to pump his length.

Pool water is terrible lube but the softness of your hand makes up for it: Ajax is moaning into your kiss and lazily bucking into your hand. God, everything is so perfect right now. The warm sun, the cool water, the sweet breeze, the—

“You two already got in?!” Suddenly, the back door is sliding open and your mother steps out, hauling two large shopping bags in each hand. You and Ajax jump apart, trying your best to turn around and meet her inconspicuously.

She seems to not notice, but Pierro, who comes out after her, has that knowing look that when it greets you, all nervousness centers itself in your bones. Your mother had beaten him to the back door by a mere second. Had it gone his way, the two of you would be pissing yourselves shamefully.

Ajax picks up the slack of maintaining your cover: picking his feet up off the pool floor and kicking off the wall, swimming toward your mother. “Yeah, sorry, Mrs. A!” He apologizes, hoisting himself out of the pool to assist her. “We just wanted to test the water,”

He nods at you to come join and you quickly follow the notion, hopping out of the pool and walking around to where they stand. Your mother pulls floaties and noodles and boxes of miscellaneous decorations out of the bags, setting them down on the ground and table. With her gaze focused downward, you and Ajax are able to share looks over her back: his eyes sending you an assured glare and wink and yours sending back worried gleams.

“We’re good,” he mouths, and before you can give him a response, your mother stands up.

“How was it? It’s not too cold, is it?”

This time you answer her. “No; it was perfect.” You say, giving Ajax a look that tells him your words were meant for him.

Unbeknownst to your games, your mother cheers. “Great—I’m gonna freshen up and get changed. Can you…” she trails off and motions her hands around the abundance of new items. You catch her meaning and confirm her request with a nod.

As quickly as she appeared, she walked off and back into the house. Her missing frame gives Ajax the space to step closer to you, inching his hands around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

It's a gesture that, in all of its inherent sweetness, carries a suggestiveness that has you giggly and ticklish. You're unable to focus on the task in front of you and are instead fighting off the needy kisses from your boyfriend.

“Stop…” you laugh, your voice sounding wholly unconvincing.

He ignores your request, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin tenderly. “I can’t stop,” he says, muffled. “You got me started—”

He squeezes you tighter and deepens the kiss on your neck. His tongue flicks and flattens against the skin and your smile flattens as you sigh out, instantly melting into him. Ajax knows just how to weaken you, a power he shares with Pierro, and you are too weak to fight it. Those kisses are targeted at the perfect spot that fogs your brain and withers your standing. Your mouth wavers as he marks a hickey on your skin, and the smallest, weakest moans tumble out of your mouth.

“Ajax…” you whisper warningly, “We can't.”

“We can.” He argues, moving from your neck to behind your ear. He knows just how to tempt you and just as susceptible as you are, you fall for it. “Where’s your room?”

You go to answer—but the sight of him in your peripheral has your mouth drying up.

Pierro finally takes his first step outside and the sight he beholds is sickening. His left cheek is balled around his tongue and his eyes are as critical as ever. You have to pat Ajax’s thigh to alert him and he’s pulling off of you, his pale complexion flushing a blazing red. “M-Mr. A! Uh—”

Uninterested in his haphazard excuse, Pierro cuts him off. “Your mother is asking for you.” Eyes boring into you elicit every bit of shame to course through you in hot embarrassment.

Without another word shared, you scurry off into the house, passing Pierro with only a brief brush of your skin. You can feel the irritation radiating off of him and you shudder under that realization.

You've made a mistake. A very, very big mistake.

━━━━━━

All you want is to be with Ajax. Wrapped in his muscular arms, under the crisp sun and the chill breeze—sipping on homemade lemonade and biting into flaky club sandwiches—it is all so perfect, so right, for you. With him, nothing goes wrong—and yet, nothing ever goes right.

Pierro never seems to lag too far behind the two of you. After assisting your mother in picking which sundress to slip into, returning to blissful, summer day peace with your boyfriend proved difficult.

You find him beside the grill with Pierro, awkwardly chatting it up with his hard-on painfully raging against the inside of his blue swim trunks. And just as you appear to pull him away, Pierro magically fishes up a task for him to do.

“You can't go with him,” he says. “The kids are getting antsy. Why don't you bring out some popsicles?”

And so you do. Returning with a bag of popsicles and handing them out to the numerous children running around your backyard. And when you finish, Ajax returns, huffing out deep breaths and dripping sweat. Luckily enough, one cherry popsicle was left over.

You’d finally managed to get Pierro off your back—your mother and her girlfriends required his immediate attention in the kitchen and drew him away from the backyard. So you and your lover are offered a moment of reprieve.

You straddle his lap, peeling the plastic off of the popsicle and tapping the treat against his lips. He’s receptive and takes the popsicle in, collecting the flavor on his tongue. You watch him intently, locking eyes with him and keeping that contact as you pull it away, leaning in to catch the taste of his mouth.

The cherry flavor is abundant and even sweeter on his tongue. Keeping it PG is out of the question when you're sucking on his tongue so feverishly—no longer chasing that cherry taste but instead him. You need him bad and judging from the twitching in his cock, he needs you just as bad.

“Baby,” he grunts, using one hand to cup the small of your back and the other to bring the popsicle back to his mouth. He tries to halt the subtle gyrating of your hips but you are determined to slot his shaft between your folds through your layers of swimwear. “It's too risky out here. Let’s go to your room.”

You laugh, beating him to it and briefly wrapping your lips around the top. “I never thought I’d hear you say it's too risky,”

“But, okay,” you sigh out, pausing your ministrations and sitting flat on his lap. “Let's go, then.”

Eager as could be, the two of you gather your things off the lounge chair and race to the inside of the house.

Successfully, Pierro’s attention is missed, and you make it up to your bedroom. Once the door is closed, you're jumping onto the bed with abandon and begin making out feverishly. Hours of built-up tension come crashing down upon you as he pins you down, wedging between your legs and rutting desperately against your pussy.

“Ah,” you moan out, arching up into him. His head is buried in the cavern of your chest, suckling and smooching along the valley. Your skin is supple and easy to latch onto—he’s losing himself in your scent and softness and taste. You pull at his hair, jerking your hips upward for more. “Please, ‘Jax; give it to me—”

Unbeknownst to you, Pierro is on the prowl. Hours have passed like minutes and soon the sky has melted into a rosy yellow and the guests have slowly begun to peel out.

His eyes search for the pair of you and upon coming up empty, his attitude is tweaked.

“Honey?” He calls out to his wife. As he returns to the inside of the house—sparing brief dismissals to the parting guests—he feigns sweetness toward her.

She, still occupied in the citywide gossip among her girlfriends, only lazily pays mind to the inquiry of her husband. “Um, hold on, dear—Tiff did what?!”

The group of women laugh and continue explaining the messy affair of some woman named Tiffany and Pierro could not care less. He doesn't care about Tiffany’s affairs; it’s yours that calls monopoly over his mind.

You must have been able to sneak off with your boy toy. Curse your attention-hogging mother. Had it not been for her, you wouldn't have been stripped from beneath his palm so stealthily.

Once he gets his hands on that ginger brat—

“I think I saw them go upstairs earlier.” She says it so passively, so dismissively, Pierro almost digests the information normally. Almost.

He doesn't even know which question to pose to get the answer he wants. So, he doesn't. He lets an irritated grumble fall from his mouth as he turns on his heels. Useless. She is ultimately useless and it’s times like this where Pierro wishes he’d met you first.

His footsteps echo up the stairs but to your jaded ears, they're nonexistent.

You sit atop Ajax now, rocking feverishly back and forth along his cock. Your hands are planted on his chest and his hands are on your waist, aiding you in your grinding. This is more passionate and needy than any other experience you've had with Ajax thus far, and the weak babbles of his name tumbling out of your mouth prove that.

Friction builds furiously in your heat and sends electric waves splashing through your veins. It’s what you've been looking for all day: a climactic, ardent affair to invoke the most needed orgasm of your life.

Maybe with this one, how you feel will be solidified.

You're rocking hard, knocking your headboard against the wall. Pierro can hear it as he approaches the top of the stairs and he wonders how much audacity you have.

The next few seconds are a blur: his footsteps approach, and so does your orgasm. You cry out your boyfriend’s name as he encourages your climax, and Pierro wraps his hand around the doorknob. You throw your head back as your orgasm seeps through the floodgates and the door swings open.

So far gone, so unaware in your blissful paradise that Pierro’s looming figure behind you doesn't matter to you. His presence is intense and suffocating and over your shoulder, Ajax catches the sight of him and stiffens up. Their eyes lock and every daring bone in his body is snapped to hustle you off of him. “Babe—”

“What?” You huff out, breathlessly. “I-I’m so close, ‘Jax—please…”

You peel your eyes open against their heavy will, looking down at your boyfriend. That shadow cast on the wall ahead of you catches your attention first. You recognize the silhouette but it isn't until you peer over your shoulder and catch that icy glare that you're all too fearful of—now, anyway.

In your shocked jumping off of Ajax, you manage to roll off the side of the bed and collapse to the floor with a screechy yelp. Ajax struggles to get himself together: fumbling around with his clothing and jaggedly standing up. “M-Mr. A—! I—”

The look Pierro sends has him clamming up and nervously laughing. There's no need for excuses or coy innuendos—you’ve been caught. Now, you need to be punished.

Without a second glance back, your boyfriend scrambles up his things and takes his leave. You want to call him back in, but all courageous function ceases to work before him. With Ajax gone, it's just you and Pierro, and never has that thought scared you before as it is now.

He closes the door and takes short, heavy steps toward you. You stay on the floor, folding your legs behind you and using your planted hands for stability. At this, the difference between the two of you is exaggerated: he stands tall and big over you, the curled bambi caught between a rock and a hard place.

Dense silence hangs in the air. Your lips quiver and shift, as though a jumble of words wish to spill but you don't allow it. You don't allow those tears that mist your eyes to fall out either, rapidly blinking back the flow of guilt. Just the unsure air he imposes makes you want to burst into tears and plead your case.

He continues to say not a word; taking a seat on your bed and only using his hand to direct you onto his lap. The motion is so small and insignificant but it terrifies you no less. Pierro is a jest: a jack of unforeseen trades and when he is ticked off, every nasty card up his sleeve comes out to play. You find yourself obliging with your head hanging low, saving yourself the intensity in his eyes.

When you sit, his arms embrace you. They slink around your waist and hug you into place but they are anything but comforting. It’s suffocating, it’s tense.

A moment is taken to breathe you in. Burrowing his nose against your neck and scrunching the feature distastefully at the overwhelming spicy scent atop your soft skin. Ajax— you smell like Ajax.

“I thought I made myself clear the last time.” The deep timbre of his whisper rumbles in your spine. It startles you straight and the confrontational air pulls out your weakness. You hate trouble, you hate being bad, you hate how he does this to you.

His breathing is soft on your neck. It tickles but it doesn't make you want to laugh. You want to cry and beg for his forgiveness. I’m sorry, Daddy, I really am! You think to cry. I’m yours, your good girl, Daddy!

Nothing comes out of you, so he continues. “I give myself to you because I care about you. Everything you could ever need is right here with me, so answer me: why?”

Your expression is pained and guilty. He knows you better than you do and he knows how to sucker punch your heart. You thought your day with Ajax would clarify the conflicting feelings in your heart, but your time with Pierro unwinds all assurity.

Tears roll down your cheeks and you struggle to put together a sentence. “Daddy…I—” you hic, a sob tumbling over your words. You turn into him and string your arms around him, weeping onto his shoulder and soiling his shirt. “I-I'm so confused…”

“What are you confused about?” His question holds not an ounce of sympathy. Still, he soothes your back with his palm, ushering out every guilty tear you weep. “I do everything for you, with you, to you—what could he be that I couldn't?”

Kind, gentle, tender, freeing. Ajax is the silk breather in your synthetic cage. He gives you a bright, lightening feeling that, against Pierro’s uncharted depths, saves you. You can't tell him that you’re finding love in Ajax. He’ll raise every dead flaw right out of you.

“Tell me what to do to make it better.”

You don't even notice his hands slipping under the cups of your bikini top. Your nipples are caught between his fingers, softly being tweaked and pinched until the tight pebbles stiffen the bud. Your cries gradually subside until you're sniffling and hiccupping, noticing his absent-minded ministrations and pulsing cock under your ass.

The worst part about realizing your position is that you don't want to escape. Maybe letting him have his way with you again will lessen the load on your shoulders. Anything to blur the confusing lines.

“Has he ever seen you cry like this?” He asks. You shake your head no. “He wouldn't even know what to do to make it all go away, would he?” No—you shake your head no. “What would you do without me? Huh?”

“I don't know.” You’d be normal, maybe. You wouldn't depend on him to fix what's always breaking inside you. You'd love and date and experience life without the debilitating crutch of your daddy there to hold you back.

With Ajax, nothing goes wrong but nothing goes right. With Pierro, everything goes wrong but everything feels so right.

So skewed, so lost, so unfounded, your relationship is the pinnacle of gnarled. He is the leader of your abyssal path and yet, also your savior from it. A world without him in it is hard to imagine — and when you're on his lap, in his arms like this, it’s hard to want to imagine it.

“You don't ever want to know, do you?” Again, no—you’re shaking your head no as though it’s the only motion you know how to do. “Then stop driving me away. Let me love you.”

He’s kissing over your skin, palming your boobs softly. It’s familiar and safe and you know that in the end, he’ll still be there. Etched in your skin and mind, reminding you that there's someone to fall into when life becomes too much. You can lean into Pierro with security—and just like that, all of your valiant agency is melted away.

“Okay,” is the only word you say, and it's the only word he needs.

━━━━━━

Nine days. Pierro has called you twelve times, texted you thirty-seven times, and has lost his mind three times in the nine days that you've been gone.

You're mad at him, he understands that now. He pushed you and drove you away, he understands that now, so why can't you answer his calls and talk to him?

“She needs space,” your mother says. She wraps her arms around him from the back and smoothes the wrinkles in his shirt. “She’s grown and in love and needs her space to flourish, Pi. Don't suffocate her.”

Okay. He would have left it alone at that. When you need him, you’ll come back; you always do.

But your mother could not let well enough be. “Besides, she’s with Ajax. They’ll be keeping each other company while we…”

The rest of that was lost in his head. Evidently, Pierro is not getting across to you. When he spoke to you that evening of the pool party, that was to be the last time that redhead’s name was thought of, and, yet, here you are, running into his arms.

It wouldn't drive him crazy if he didn't have you first. If everything you've ever known and done wasn't by his hand. You are his little girl, his prize at the end of a tiring marriage, his happy ending after a long day, his.

His instant joy— Ding!

Pierro’s phone is in his hand in seconds. The deep snores of his wife let him know that tiptoeing away won't be necessary. Your name, decorated in a sole red heart, pops up two more times, and before he unveils the messages, his mind swirls with the string of excuses you're probably typing out.

The texts are short and insignificant when he lays eyes on the attachment. A three-minute and forty-eight-second video with your glossy, smiley face in the thumbnail. He swings the door of his office shut and sits down, immediately pressing play.

You're giggling in the immediate beginning before your laughs are morphed into a string of moans. The angle fixates on your face, downturned and droopy in pleasure—a face Pierro is all too familiar with. Catching sight of it on the other side of a phone is angering, to say the least.

Wet slopping is heard in the foreground, competing with your moans for volume. It’s slow and romantic—in and out, in and out, in and out—each thrust eliciting a shallow hiss from behind the camera and a pleading whine from in front of it. The angle shifts just as he breathes out, his pale hand drifting from the side of your waist to massage your clit. “Like that, baby? That good for you?”

You hum in confirmation, bucking up into his hand. “S-so good—mmfh, ‘J-Jax—!”

He laughs behind the camera, zooming into your sloppy cunt. You're dripping: thick, glossy beads of slick pooling in your slit and spilling around his dick. It shines a gleaming reflection under the light of the flash and Ajax is quick to rapidly rub through and splash your arousal around. The clicking sound that elicits is viscid and resounding but the pleasured sobs you choke out are louder. He moves the camera up to your face, streaks of tears splashing down your hot cheeks.

His fingers intrude between your parted lips and you immediately slurp your arousal off his fingers. “So nasty…what if daddy saw you like this?”

The tone in his voice is teasing- patronizing, as though the total wreck you are before him is a joke. You open teary eyes to stare into the camera, a wide grin pulling at your lips around his fingers. Your pupils are wide and blown: an endless, dark pit of lust that when appearing on the phone seems as though it’s entrancing Pierro.

Your hands wrap around Ajax’s forearm—and you moan one last time around his fingers, swiveling your tongue around the digits before pulling them out. You bring his hand to wrap around your throat, grinning wide. Those lustful eyes leave the camera and presumably to Ajax behind the camera and your lips part slowly. “You are my daddy.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ajax mutters behind the camera, and the stability of the angle wavers. The pair of you share breathless laughs.

That motherfucker, Pierro thinks, gripping the phone tighter. In the final twenty seconds, Ajax curses under his breath, putting your pussy in view. His pace is a lot sloppier and desperate now and his voice cracks as he moans your name. “‘M gonna cum—”

You draw out a sharp whine, using your fingers to pinch and feverishly flick your clit. “Please..” you breathe out. “Cum in me, Daddy.”

The video ends. Pierro cannot believe his eyes nor his ears—you—he can't believe this.

He doesn't bother reading the next incoming messages. He’s already racing downstairs and yanking his keys off of the hook.

Pierro’s a jest and the joke is about to be on you.

160 notes · View notes

celestie0 · 8 months

Text

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch. 3 returning the favor

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 3/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 4.5k

a/n. hope you enjoy! i really had fun incorporating a lot of the other characters in this one.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 9:21AM Gojo Satoru sent you a photo

|| 9:22AM Gojo Satoru: Here’s our practice schedule for the week. Honestly, it’s better if you come when we do practice games or something, since on other days we just do drills or strength training, but coach doesn’t really tell us what we’re doing beforehand so would probs have to play it by ear

|| 9:27AM Gojo Satoru: Oh yeah, we’ve got a big game in three weeks on the 28th. It’ll decide if we’re automatically seeded into the top 16 teams bracket, which is really crucial if we want to eventually bring home the championship. Not sure when your assignment is due, but that would be a good official game to come to

|| 9:28AM Gojo Satoru: Let me know as soon as you can if you want to make that game. I’ll have to ask coach to get the referee sign-off for you to be on-field during play at least a week before

You look down at all the messages he was sending you during class on a Monday morning. After he sent you that house party details post from his fraternity’s Instagram page last week, their posts kept popping up in your feed and you saw one this morning with a bunch of the guys in the frat, Gojo included, shotgunning beers until 3AM last night. You marvel at how he’s somehow not hungover beyond repair and is texting you before noon.

Pressing and holding on to his messages, you give him little thumbs up reactions and you decide on a heart reaction for the picture he sent you of the practice schedule. Then, you set your phone down and look at the video of the men’s soccer team highlights your professor was playing from the game a week and a half ago.

“Here, here, this right here. Midfielder #24 surveyed the field, spotting #13 making a run for it down the flank. Pinpoint pass to left winger, who starts steering through defenders, but loses the ball. Then, center forward #10 steals the ball back! He steals the ball, he fucking steals the fucking ball back!” Your professor was running back and forth in front of the projector screen, his finger following the movement of the soccer ball in the video. Your heart jumps a beat when Gojo shows up on screen, with his signature #10 jersey, and some people in the lecture hall stand up in excitement with the professor. “Beelines towards the goal, and BAM! Goalie stood no fucking chance, ball sent immaculately into the back of the net. Victory for UTokyo, 2-1, in the last seconds of the game!" Your professor cheers and jumps up and down. Some people cheer with him, others sigh, others are in awe, and some simply clap.

Another entire lecture goes by where the professor spends absolutely no time going over film photography theory and instead just talks about how soccer used to be back in his day. You approach him after class, clutching your laptop case to your chest, and it’s only when you clear your throat in front of him that he finally looks up at you from the podium.

“Oh, y/n, how can I help you?” He asks as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey, professor. Bit of a request, could I have like two extra days for my assignment? There’s this event that I really want to use for the subject matter but it’s the day before the deadline, and I would need some time to develop my photos,” you say in the politest tone you can muster up.

“Yeah, sure. Just get it in before the end of the deadline week,” he says nonchalantly. “Looking forward to seeing it. Good work on the last one, by the way.”

You give him a smile and a word of appreciation before turning on your heel and making it up the stairs to exit the lecture hall, pulling your phone out of your tote bag.

|| 9:53AM You: i can make it on the 28th. please get that referee permission for me

You press your lips together as you press send, and then type a bit more.

|| 9:54AM You: and thanks a lot

Your stomach is suddenly growling and you’re about to head over to the student hub when your phone starts ringing. You look down at the contact name that says Nobara and pick up.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up,” you say as you make your way towards the heart of campus, enjoying the light breeze as the sun peeked through the clouds.

“Where are you? Didn’t we have a Film Club meeting today?” She asks you, her tone a bit impatient. “We were supposed to discuss that collaboration with the school newsletter.”

Shoot. You forgot. These days, you were a bit too distracted by recent happenings, like Mina practically falling head-over-heels for a guy that was quite possibly the opposite of her type, the towering amount of class assignments that never seemed to end, and this whole arrangement you were trying to coordinate with Gojo Satoru. The Film Club meeting totally slipped your mind. You were supposed to head out of class a bit early to make it on time. “I’m so sorry, Nobara. I totally forgot about it. I’m unfortunately all the way on the other end of campus right now. I typed up some notes in the document, can you just run those by them? If we need anything else, I’ll reach out to them by email.”

She sighs on the other end of the line. “Yeah. I’m not good at these conversations, but I guess as President I should be better at them anyways. I’ll let you know how it goes.” And then she hangs up.

Mentally happy that you were at least free of one other obligation today, you prepare to make your way to the dining hall when your phone vibrates again.

|| 10:01AM Gojo Satoru: Will do, and sure thing. By the way, you free right now? Coach is having us do a practice game, probably for around 2 hours

You squint your eyes at his message, considering the opportunity. You didn’t have any other classes left for the day and were just going to grab something to eat before heading home, but now you wonder if you should make it to this practice session. He did say that you have to be flexible since he doesn’t even know exactly what they’ll end up doing before practice, so you figured this might be your only chance this week to practice capturing shots of them as they play, since it seemed like they had Tuesday & Friday off based on Gojo’s schedule picture. Unfortunately, you only brought your digital camera with you today since your film camera was too heavy to carry around unless you knew you needed it, but you can still do a lot with digital that would help for the film camera shoot. You could make it work.

|| 10:05AM You: yeah, i’m free. i was just gonna grab something to eat first, and then i’ll head over to the field in maybe 15 min. but i’m not exactly sure how to get onto the field, or where the entrance is…

He adds a heart reaction to your message which startles you a little bit. An accident, maybe?

|| 10:06AM Gojo Satoru: Lol, just meet me at that weird art sculpture they put up last semester. The one that cost like all of our tuition money. I’ll walk you to the field

You let out a sigh, somewhat nervous that you'll be seeing him again soon. The last time you saw Gojo was when you left him standing unceremoniously at the kitchen island with a somewhat offending comment. Nonetheless, he didn’t necessarily seem angry at you. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s been way more helpful than you had ever anticipated. You started to feel like the effort you put into getting Mina to go to that house party was nothing compared to the effort he was putting in for you to ace this assignment.

Stopping by your school’s mini grocery store, you pick up a sandwich plus some strawberry vanilla soda, and take some bites as well as some sips as you leisurely make your way to the expensive art sculpture near the sports fields. As you get closer to it, you see Gojo from a distance talking to some people. A few of them were guys, a few of them girls, and he was laughing out loud at something one of the girls said. A part of you wonders what it’s like to be adored by so many people.

When he spots you at the other side of the cross walk, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he’s hurriedly saying goodbye to the group in front of him. Their heads turn to each other in confusion before turning their attention in your direction as he makes his way over to you.

“Hey,” he says as he lightly jogs up to the sidewalk you were standing on. You notice he’s wearing a black long sleeve undershirt with a short-sleeved blue one on top, along with some athletic black shorts and running shoes. When he brushes some of his hair away from where it had fallen near his eyes, your heart skips a beat at his handsome expression. A smile graces his face. “You ready?”

You nod, swallowing the mouthful of sandwich you didn’t realize you had stopped chewing, and follow his lead as the two of you cut across behind the batting cages of the school’s softball training area. Your eyes fell to Gojo’s back as he walked on the pavement. His shoulders were broad, shoulder blades pulling the upper half of the fabric of his clothing somewhat taut across as the rest of it freely flowed down to his lean lower back. The long sleeved shirt he wore underneath was pretty loose-fitting, but you could still see the thickness of his muscles. With every step that he took, his calves flexed in a way that made you realize he must really work out.

“What are you eating?” He says as he turns around to face you, walking backwards for a few paces as he looks at your hands.

“Oh, just a veggie sandwich,” you answer as you hold it up next to your face. “Campus delicacy.”

His smile widens. “And what are you drinking?” This time he asks with a bit more curiosity.

“It's strawberry vanilla soda,” you say as you juggle all of the things you were holding in your arms.

“Can I have some?” He asks with a somewhat innocent tone. “The soda, I mean. I’ve never had that flavor.”

You hesitate, but alas you were a people-pleaser. “Sure.”

He halts his movements and so you do too, and he closes the gap between you two in one exaggerated stride. His hand gently pulls the soda bottle out from where it was tucked into your elbow to keep it from falling. You notice the veins on his hand get more defined as he squeezes & twists to release the cap and it sends something akin to a wave of arousal through your body, entirely startling you. But when he brings the bottle up to his lips with his head tipping backwards, drinking directly from it, neck bobbing as he swallows and a single drop trickles down the expanse of his jawline, the arousal directly hits you at your core.

“Hm,” he licks his lips. “That’s pretty good.”

You’re standing there in shock, your grip on your sandwich causing dents in the bread. He dabs the stray droplet of liquid at his chin with the back of his hand and turns around to keep walking ahead, making his way up the stairs onto what looks like a grassy field. It takes you a second to start moving too, and by then you need to do a light jog just to catch up to him.

There’s a comfortable silence that develops between the two of you and when you glance at Gojo, you notice his eyes are closed and there’s a serene smile on his face, a gust of wind pushing the hair up out of his forehead and sending the blades of grass dancing across the hilly field. You smile too at the sensation of cool wind on your skin. It was a beautiful day outside with sparkling sunshine and quiet whistling wind.

“Can I ask you something?” You say after contemplating if you should interrupt his somewhat meditative state.

“You can ask me anything,” he easily replies.

“Why are you so willing to help me out with my assignment?”

He turns his head to look at you with a neutral expression. “Because you did me a favor.”

You sigh. “I know…but it really wasn’t that hard to convince Mina to go to that party. I feel like you’re helping me out way more than I helped you out.” A small ladybug lands on the fabric of your jeans and you marvel at it before it flutters its wings and flies away.

He’s silent for a second. “Honestly, when you agreed to help me out with Todo’s little crush, which by the way I had to do because I lost a bet, and you mentioned something about terms and conditions in your message,” he starts to say, a brief pause making its way between the sentence as if he was actively trying to relive that first night he was texting you, “I thought you were going to ask for something sexual in return.”

Your mouth drops at his line of thinking, suddenly mortified. That’s how your message came across to him? Oh my God, you had to rethink how you texted everyone in your life from now on.

“I mean, weren’t you being a little flirty? ‘My terms and conditions will come later’. Or do I just have some weird sexual brain rot?” His eyes are still on you, his tone way too casual in your opinion for this sudden topic of conversation. You also realize that he thinks having sex with him would be returning you the favor. And then you try not to think about how good he probably is in bed.

When you can’t think of what to say and just stare at him with wide eyes, he smiles and stretches his arms out in front of him as another gust of wind passes by. “Well, anyways, when you shared what you actually wanted from me and it ended up being a pretty earnest request…let’s just say I was emotionally moved by your dreams and aspirations.” He says that last part somewhat dramatically and you roll your eyes, sending him an annoyed look. “A little disappointed, but nonetheless moved.”

“Wow, you’re the type of person that would trade favors for sex?” you ask him with a sneer to your tone.

He sends a lazy smirk to you over his shoulder to where you’re trailing behind him now. “Not really, no, can’t say I’ve ever done it before,” he says slyly, “probably would’ve made an exception for you, though.” And then he’s giving you a wink.

You can’t help but blush a little. He was definitely just teasing you, some hobby of his that he does just to constantly get a kick out of the people around him since he knows he just has that much of an effect on them, so you try not to let his words get past your skin to the more vulnerable parts of you. He’s reading your expression before he speaks up again.

“We’ve already started this little return favor of yours, so no take-backs. It’s an eye for an eye. Not an eye for an eye and throw some casual sex in there, too.” He makes his way up what seems to be the largest hill across the field and he stops at the top, peering out at whatever was across from it. When you made your way to the top too, your eyes widened as you saw an expanse of flat grassiness covered in orange cones, green land markers, white chalk outlines, and netted goals. Oh, and a lot of men. “Alright, you freaky little photographer. Here are your muses.”

You let out the breath you were holding in and smiled, hands immediately reaching for your digital camera case within your tote bag. A wave of creativity and inspiration hit you as you were finally able to lay your eyes on your subject matter and setting, and you couldn’t wait to get started.

Gojo makes his way down the hill and you stumble after him. He high-fives a couple of his teammates that were leaving the first wave of practice and makes his way over where the second-wave practice players were stretching on the field and running laps.

“C’mon, Itadori, I’ve seen snails with a more urgent sense of direction than you! Pick up those goddamn knees!” You hear a loud voice from a few feet away from you and flinch, eyeing the scary looking man that had a…Pomeranian dog in his arms? He was wearing a black athletic jumpsuit and had extremely tinted, thick sunglasses on. His facial hair was a bit jarring and you immediately decided you were scared of him, despite how gently he was petting the little dog cradled in his arms.

“That’s coach Yaga,” Gojo says beside you with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Real nice guy.”

You turn to give him a suspicious look and he just returns it with a wider smile.

“Hey! It’s y/n,” you hear a somewhat familiar voice call out and you glance at the direction it came from. You see Geto standing next to Nanami and he whacks his hand against the blonde's chest to get his attention when he makes eye contact with you before jogging over. You see Gojo put his hands in his shorts pockets in your periphery. “What are you doing here?”

You give him a shy smile, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Here to take some photos.”

“Are you with the school newsletter?” Nanami’s smooth voice says as he approaches Geto, standing next to him. They both were wearing matching blue tracksuits.

“No, I’m not. Just here to…take some photos for one of my classes. It’s for a film photography assignment.” You suddenly wished you were part of the school newsletter committee, so that you could at least provide them with some positive publicity with your photos. You wondered if they would think you’re just using them. As if Gojo could read your mind, he patted Geto harshly on the back and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Hear that, punks? She wants to try and take some nice photos of you lot. Be grateful! Of course, your grotesque appearances cannot simply be fixed by any technology yet known to man,” Gojo says rather loudly, continuing to smack Geto on the back. Geto has a small pitiful smile on his face and Nanami just looks annoyed. You feel lighter somehow, less tense.

“Okay, cool, let us know if we can help in any way,” Geto says kindly as he sits down on the grass to continue stretching out his legs. “Oh by the way, Satoru, Chosou’s out sick today so you might need to cover for goalie.”

“What? Why’s that fucker always getting sick?” Gojo says as he walks towards one of the duffle bags on the bench, and you assume it’s his. He pulls out a water bottle. “He needs to stop eating that goddamn grocery store sushi.”

“Oh! Oh! It’s you,” another somewhat familiar voice calls out from ahead. You see a guy wearing a dark blue jacket that had a red hood approaching you from the inner field. Then you recognize he was that guy at the entrance of the house party that called you a- “It’s casual tomboy!”

Your eye twitches slightly as you take in your appearance. Sure, you were wearing jeans again, but your top was somewhat stylish and feminine. He arrives in front of you and notices the digital camera hung at your neck. “Hey, what’s that?” He points directly at your midriff where the camera sat. He almost pokes his finger right through the delicate attachable lens that cost you nearly two months of rent.

“A little rude, Yuuji,” Geto says, grunting as he switches from one stretch to the other.

Yuuji gets closer to you to study the camera and you instinctively lean away from him before Gojo is grabbing him by the hood of his jacket and yanking him away from you, Yuuji’s arms flailing out in front of himself in a struggle. “Hey, get back to practice. You’re not allowed to talk to pretty seniors.”

Coach Yaga grunts and crosses his arms from where he stood a few feet away, the tiny pomeranian now barking at his feet. “I never said you could stop running laps, Itadori! Get your ass back out there! I’ll be sending you to recreational soccer for the rest of your freshman year if you don’t get your damn head straight!” Gojo lets go of Itadori’s hood and the poor boy is scrambling across the field to join what seems like the other first-years for their warm-up laps. Coach Yaga turns to you and gives a hmph before vaguely gesturing to you. “May I know what you’re doing out on my field?”

“Coach!” Gojo says, making his way over to the scary man. He slings his arm around his neck and the man just continues to glare at him through his sunglasses. “She’s with me today. Photographer y/n will be taking some handsome photographs of you that you can send to your wife, and then maybe your wife will actually want to-”

Coach Yaga puts Gojo in a headlock and Gojo’s instantly tapping on his back to get him to ease up. “I dare you to finish that sentence, boy.”

You let out a small laugh. This was certainly a lively bunch. Nanami approaches you and expresses interest in your camera. You lift it up for him to take a closer look. He pinches his chin between his bent index finger and thumb, as if he was a detective analyzing a crime scene. “I see…so this is a film camera.”

“Ah…” you laugh awkwardly. “No, this is just a digital camera.”

“I see…so this is a digital camera,” he repeats, equally as intrigued.

The time eventually comes along where all the players start the practice match. There’s obviously not enough players out on the field for full teams on each side, but they’re split into 1st & 4th years vs. 2nd & 3rd years. You learn that the second wave practice group has the talented players at the top of each of their year groups. Gojo doesn’t seem to participate in the practice match despite one team having to omit having a goalie since the coach requested he sit out to watch the plays and make suggestions. You’re a bit sad you don’t get to see him play, but figured you’ll have a chance in the future. You take a few snapshots as one of the other first-years, a quiet boy named Megumi, kicks the ball towards the goal that ends up bouncing off the goal frame. You spend some time tweaking the exposure, zoom, and focus until you feel like you have a pretty good idea of the settings you’ll need to get some fluid shots.

When you look up over the field again, raising your digital camera to your face, you notice Gojo looking at you from across the field where he stood at the sidelines. You both keep your gaze on one another for a couple of seconds, and you boldly lift the camera up to your eye, taking a few snapshots of him. When you pull it away, look down at the results on the small screen, and then glance back up at him, his eyes are slightly wide. Something stirs within you when you remember his words from earlier: I thought you were going to ask for something sexual.

Your mind wanders back to the party from last weekend, and the feeling of him leaning down next to your ear in the kitchen as he said “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” The memory itself made your cheeks feel warm. Did he…think that something was going to happen that night at the party? Probably would’ve made an exception for you…Disappointed, but nonetheless moved. Somewhere in the haziness of your thoughts, you realize that meant that Gojo would’ve wanted to sleep with you if that was indeed your condition.

When you look to the other side of the field again, Gojo’s eyes are still on you but his handsome face looks a bit troubled, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, but for some reason you felt like he could tell what you were. When you raised an eyebrow at him, his face relaxed and he slowly shook his head as if to say it's nothing.

Coach Yaga’s sharp whistle cuts through the silent conversation you two were having as he yells, “alright, boys. Practice over! Go stretch yourselves out.”

You quickly stuff your digital camera back into its case and collect your things into your tote bag. In your peripheral vision, Gojo’s making his way over to you and when he’s right next to you, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“How’d it go? Get some good shots?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” You’re still not looking at him, pretending to fiddle with something in your tote bag. He leans down a bit to look at your face more clearly when he notices you’re not meeting his gaze, but you still struggle to make eye contact with him. “I’ve gotta go, can you tell the guys I said bye?” And then you’re making your way up the hill.

There’s a beat of silence as confusion washes over him from your behavior. “Hey, wait, y/n, do you know how to get back to campus?”

You spin to face him when you're at the top of the hill, finally looking him in the eye. There’s a concerned expression on his face. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thanks a lot for today. Let me buy you a strawberry vanilla soda sometime, okay?” Flashing him a small smile, you turn around and run down the hill, ignoring the fast beating of your heart.

a/n. thanks a bunch for reading!

➸ take me to chapter four!

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broshot · 1 year

Note

Ooo can you also do Nanami and Sukuna for the near death reader? Loved the ones for Megumi and Gojo!

a/n: hello!! of course I can do that♡ thank you for the request! I'm just a hater when it comes to sukuna so I'll be making him the most ooc there is! (I've never really written stuff for these two so I hope they're not too bad) also I'm so so so sorry for writing this so late, I've had a big writing block recently so this isn't my best writing but I just needed to post this for you all

here's the one with megumi and gojo!

cw/tw: gn!reader, hurt w comfort (angst to fluff), hurt reader, mentions of death + blood, confession in sukuna's part, probs a bit (or very) ooc,

♡♡♡

nanami kento

he wasn't a person who talked about his feelings, and he definitely didn't show them. he was polite and professional, not so polite when he was fighting but that didn't matter. he always had the same blank and bored expression on his face, sometimes it turned into annoyed and angry but he never smiled or looked sad.

until he met you. he fell in love with you instantly, though he tried to convince himself that he definitely wasn't in love. he wanted to share his life with you, both his good and bad days.

you made him smile and laugh, you made him happy. he swears the day he confessed to you was his luckiest and happiest day and he never ever wanted to lose you. he swore he would protect you.

but his promise didn't seem very true anymore. you were sitting against a wall with your head in an uncomfortable position. he rushed over to you and tried to wake you up as you seemed to just be unconscious, probably fainted and nothing worse.

"can you hear me, sweetheart?" he asked, softly lifting your chin up. that's when he noticed the deep cut on your neck. it was bleeding a lot, how did he not notice all the blood before?

"wake up," he said, feeling the panic rush up faster and faster. you need to stay calm, he thought to himself but it wasn't really working.

his hands seemed to work on their own as he softly pressed a piece of cloth onto your wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"what's up? I'm in a tight spot right now." he heard gojo's unusually serious voice on the other side of the phone. when had he called gojo?

"uh, I need help. (name)'s bleeding a lot. could you send someone over?" he couldn't recognize his own voice, it sounded distant and a bit too high to be his.

"I'll be over in a second," was all he heard gojo say before a familiar frame arrived right next to him.

---

you opened your eyes and quickly tried to get up. the fight was all you had in mind, you couldn't waste even a second, you had to be there.

but you were stopped by a huge wave of pain all over your body. your head was hurting and so was your neck, and you were suddenly aware of how sore all of your muscles were. you were laying in a bed, probably in a hospital somewhere. before you could even think about what happened yesterday that got you in this position, you noticed nanami sleeping on the chair next to you.

"honey?" you whispered and to your surprise, he immediately wake up.

"sweetheart. you're alive." he breathed out before rushing over to you. he pulled you close to his chest, softly wrapping his arms around your body.

"yeah, I was-" you started but a sound stopped your words. you heard a quiet sob from him. he was crying.

"I thought I lost you," he sobbed, his voice wobbly and weak.

you didn't say anything. you just hugged him back.

"I don't ever want to lose you, love, never," he continued. "if you die I'll never love anyone again. please don't leave me like that."

"I'll do my best to stay alive for you," you whispered. "I love you.

"I love you too. I'll make sure you're protected next time."

♡♡♡

sukuna

the king of curses shouldn't fear anything, right?

so why was he shaking from fear right now?

"I'm not scared, I'm just angry," he repeated for the nth time in his head. he could never be scared, really. but still, being scared was the only thing that felt acceptable for him right now. he was scared he'd lose you, the love of his life, all because he wasn't careful.

he had been practicing to control his cursed energy in different ways and had accidentally hit you with a huge energy boost. it didn't fully hit you, but it made a deep cut on the right side of your neck. and you were bleeding. you were bleeding a lot.

he stood next to you as you laid on the ground. he couldn't fully process what was happening, but soon enough his knees gave up and he fell down next to you.

curses are able to cry.

he had never cried before this, he never had any reasons to cry before this. but he was fully sobbing while looking down at your body. he could almost see the life bleeding out of you and he couldn't do anything about it.

then he remembered a thing or two.

---

you felt a stinging pain on your neck as you woke up. you groaned and tried to sit up, but you were quickly stopped by a pair of hands.

"sukuna?"

"(name), you're alive," you heard him say.

"yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you asked. he stayed quiet. "sukuna.. what happened?"

he sighed before explaining the situation fully. "I'm really sorry for that, I swear I didn't try to hit you and I didn't do it on purpose, I feel really bad about it and to think that I almost killed the only person I truly love, I'm such a disappointment," he rambled.

you were speechless. the fact that he almost killed you was shocking enough but on top of that he also loved you.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me. I was just.. thinking out loud and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable-" he kept rambling but you cut him off by placing your hand on his cheek. he looked up at you, clearly surprised by your action.

"relax, you didn't make me uncomfortable. and I forgive you for, you know, almost killing me. and I love you too."

"wait what? you.. do you really?" he asked, clearly not believing his ears.

"more than anything."

♡♡♡

this is WAY worse than the last one omg I'm so sorry AAAAAAAA anyways, recommend characters you want me to do this with (if you want to see more characters w this prompt)

you can also recommend other stuff for me to write! :D

masterlist is on my profile but I haven't updated it in a while

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #nanami imagine #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento angst #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami jjk #nanami x y/n #gn!reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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tsumuus · 2 months

Text

first date headcanons | nekoma

a/n these are just some ideas on how i personally think these characters would ask you out on a date + the actual date. not proofread

characters tetsuro kuroo, kenma kozume, lev haiba, yaku morisuke

masterlist

tetsuro kuroo

would spend days maybe even weeks planning before actually asking you out

he'd ask kenma for advice

he'd just be nonchalant about it a vague

but his laid back responses would help kuroo calm down about the whole situation

despite all his planning, when the moment's right, he'd just go for it

how it would play out:

it would start w his usual teasing

very playful to tease any tension at all

he'd joke about how you two seem to never hang out outside of school

then his tone would shfit to one more sincere

and he'd just go for it

there would be no pressure from him at all

he'd explain how it'd just be a chill, fun night out just the two of you

i think he'd choose a restaurant for a first date

one he knows you'd love

just some place you could relax and enjoy each others company

throughout dinner, the convo would flow so easily thanks to him

he'd be talking about anything and eveyrhting

but would also be quiet and listren attentively whenever you had anything to say

would never cut you off

if you didn't like your food he would 100% switch with you if you seemed to like his more

after the restaurant

he'd take you someone that aligns with both your interests, whatever that is

like a botanical garden, bookstore, a cafe for dessert, wtv

constant chemistry between you two

he'd walk you home

now he'd get nervous

bc he'd really want to kiss you but just doesn't want to freak you out

so if the moment is right

and you seem to be sending the right signals

like saying how much you enjoyed your time together

and closing the gap between you two

he'd just go for it

after your kiss

he'd leave with a warm goodbye and a promise to text you when he gets home

kenma kozume

kenmas very introverted i think that parts obvious

so if he liked you he would take his time contemplating whether or not he should try to confess or even ask you out

but if he comes to the conclusion that he should

he would do it in a way that's both natural and comfortable for the both of you

like if you both like gaming

he'd use that as a bridge

he'd start dropping subtle hints whenever the two fo you are casually playing a game

like how fun it would be if you two tried out a new game together in person

or maybe even hang out a cafe?

i feel like he'd opt towards doing it on text rather than in person

it's less intimidating for him and he could carefully plan out what his message says

it would be simple and straightforward

after sending the text, he'd prob be a bit anxious waiting for your response

but when you say yes, he can't help but let out a small sigh of relief and a genuine smile

for the date, it would be somewhere comfy yet secluded

like a small, cozy cafe or bookstore that has a cafe

the convertstaion throughout your date would center around shared interests like gaming

and since kenma isn't one for constant chatter, he wouldn't feel uneasy if the convo ever got quiet, infact he prefers the silence more than ever since it's w you

his affection is shown through the small things

since he's not one for chatter, you'd most likely be the one carrying the convo while he atentively listens

you'd catch him giving you shy, soft smiles throughout the date

he wouldn;t make a big deal out of the goodbye

just a quiet, sweet, sincere thank you

but you will recieve a follow up message later that night with him clearly expressing that he enjoyed his time with you and asking if youd like to hang out again sometime soon

lev haiba

he is naturally enthusiastic and filled w energy

when he asks you out it would be a total accident

he woulda been bursting from excitement, barely able to contain his feelings

it prob woulda been after you complimented him on something

or even just a sweet thing you did for him that went completely unnoticed by you, but not by him

so he just confesses on the spot

Immediately asking you out on a date

his sincerity would be evident in his eyes

making it hard to resist his invitation

the date he takes you on would be packed with fun activities

he'd choose a mix of things to do to ensure theres never a dull moment

like going to an amusemnet park or ever the zoo

his playful energy would be contagious

he would make sure youre both having a blast

whether thats by riding roller coasters, playing arcade games, or mimicing the animals at the zoo

his natural charm would unintentionally come off as flirting

he'd make you laugh by doing just about anything

often teasing you in a lighthearted and affectionate way

despite his playful demeanor

hed show his sweet side through ways like letting you beat him at an arcade game, buying you your favorite snack, and just overall ensure that you are comfortable throughout the date

his tall build and boundless energy leads to some adorable clumsiness

and even in those awkward moments, he never seems to get embarrassed around you

but you do catch him blushing at times

his openness and vulnerability is definitely endearing

it just shows how much he cares for you

he'd waljk you home after

still buzzing with excitement

he'd thank you for an amazinf day

and he's quick to text you with details for the next date, eagerly getting ahead of himself

has everything for the next date planned out way before even asking you about it, even way before the first date ended

yaku morisuke

wouldn't prep much before asking you out

dont get me wrong hed want it to be special ofc but also not overly dramatic

he's observant

he pays attention to your likes and dislikes

so his approach would be based on what he knows you'd apperciate

he's reassuring, sincere, and gentle with how he asks you out

he makes it clear that his interest in you is genuine

the date he plans is well-organized

he'd take your interests and preferences when choosing the location of your date

oh but let me just say

he is a total GENTLEMAN

like chivalry is not dead, and that is due solely to him lol

his manners are impeccable

hed hold doors for you, pull out your chair, constantly checking in on you, etc

he'd keep the conversation engaging

asking you many questions to keep up the convo

but also inst shy about talking about himself

but not in a selfcentered way yk

he listens so well to everyhting you have to say

makes you feel heard and valued

he'd remember small details from previous conversations, showing how much he cares

if its a bit chilly

he would notice immediately and offer you his jacket

his protective nature evident in these tiny but meaningful gestures

constantly complimenting you throughou t the date

he would walk you home

thank you for a good time

he's so thoughful and heartfelt

you can;t help but kiss his cheek before saying goodbye

the genuine and starstruck look on his face leaves you looking foward to your next date

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y2ashlee · 4 months

Text

Leona Kingscholar x Female! Reader SMUT

WARNINGS: Sex, bad writing, of character Leona but what fan written Leona isn’t.

Inspiration:

That weird hormone perfume I saw advertised on TikTok.

Author notes:

As we know from the manga, Leona sleeps without a shirt on.

Are they dating? Yes. Is this the couples first time having sex with each other. Also yes.

I looked up mating rituals of lions so that was interesting. Like I knew the female lion was the boss in that case but it’s still pretty interesting. Anyway male lions with stroke or lick the female on their necks, shoulders or backs to initiate the males also bite the female to basically remain in control and it helps with ovulation apparently which sounds bullshit but I guess it works?. Anyway I’ll probs look up stuff for the other non human members of the cast. Though with the fae ones I’ll probably only use part of the animal that they’re associated with since dragons aren’t real and pretty sure Azul’s dick isn’t removable nor is it one of his tentacles.

Anyway also use protection.

~~~

The Prefect of ramshackle dorm had recently gotten herself a bottle of perfume from the school store that smelt lovely, and was on sale. But what she didn’t know was that it was enchanted to make whomever harvest strong romantic feelings towards the Wearer to act upon those feelings in someway Handholding, kisses, hugs etc whenever they smelled it. And unfortunately for a certain lion beast man, these feelings were tripled as his sense of smell was so much better than any humans. She had been wearing the perfume for about a month, still unknowing about the enchantment, but every time the two would cross paths he would get a huge whiff of her intoxicating scent, and when she was in the same room as him for a long period of time, or standing close to him, every time, it got stronger, this particular time she was taking a joint class with his class and surprisingly he showed up to class, but as soon as the bell rang, he quickly got up to leave to get away from her scent. He was stopped by deuce as he wanted to ask him something and she was standing next to him he sighed. “..what..” he said, gritting his teeth. “Sorry I just wanted to ask-..” Deuce said. “Ask, Ruggie.” Is all he said before moving past them to leave. “Are you alright? You look flushed and you’re sweating.” The Prefect asked reaching towards him pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “My god. You feel hot!” She said surprised. “Do you need to go to the nu-“ He ducked away from her hand a sneer on his face. “I’m fine.” He said turning and walking out of the classroom. “A-alright then..” she said watching him walk away. He practically speed walked to the bathroom walking over to the sink and turning the water on splashing water on his face to calm himself as he let out a loud exaggerated sigh.

Leona retreating or running away continued for the next few days as the Prefect would try to talk to him and ask to hang out with him and whatnot yet he’d avoid any form of physical contact even after she had stopped wearing the perfume. But it was too late the enchantment was already in effect. While she was contemplating and over thinking that he didn’t want to be with her anymore he was trying to overcome all the sexual thoughts and not wanting to hurt her in his aroused and angered state. The smallest whiff of her scent put him in a foul mood because he couldn’t be near her until the enchantment wore off as he didn’t trust himself. But as he watched her from afar all those days he could see how much him avoiding her physically was weighing on her. He let out a yawn as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling trying to sleep fall asleep but finding it hard to do so he sighed grabbed his phone from the desk next to his bed and quickly send her a message.

Leona: Hey, Sorry I’ve been avoiding you.

He sent the first message unsure what to write next. He sighed a growl flowing from his lips as he rolled over onto his side burying his face into his pillow before feeling his phone vibrate before it rang. He looked at the screen seeing that it was her who was calling. He took a deep breath before answering. “..yeah.” He said already filled with guilt. “So, why have you been avoiding me?” She asked her voice soft and low like she was about to cry. He gulped before replying. “You know that perfume you’ve been wearing?” He stated. “Oh, was it too overpowering?” She asked. “Not exactly, it was enchanted..” Is all he said unsure how to phrase what he needed to say. “Basically, it makes me want to…” his voice drifted off. Thoughts of her roaming his mind. “…do stuff….to you..” he said softly his tail swishing slightly. His face flushed. “O-oh, OH!” She said her face also flushing. “Do you not want to do stuff with me..” she said biting her lip. He let out a groan like sigh. “Of course I do, I just-ugggh, I don’t wanna..hurt you..” he said biting his lip burying his face in his pillow once more. “..ok I see..” she said her face more flushed then before. “..are you in your room right now..” she asked. “Yeah..” he replied. “Stay where you are.” She said hanging up and putting her phone in her pocket. His eyes widened realising what she was intending to do. He sighed and put his phone on the desk before pulling the blankets over his head hiding from the cool moonlit night breeze.

The door opened with a small thud. “Sorry.” She winched at the sound before shutting the door slowly. She took a deep breath trying to compose herself before walking over to the bed. “Are you gonna hide from me now.” She said to the lump under the blanket. His tail flicked and swayed as it was free from the blanket which told her that he was happy she was there or annoyed she was unsure. She sighed and sat down on the bed. “It’s okay if you want to do stuff with me especially that kind of stuff but..at least tell me and..let me set the pace..” she said her face flushed as one hand gripped the blanket the other covering her mouth her eyes downcast as she bit her lip. He rolled over and sat up the blanket falling from his face showing his flushed face. “..are you sure?..” his voice low as his piercing green eyes stared at her. Her scent filling his nostrils engulfing him. “Y-yes.” She said removing her hand from her mouth and turning to look up at him with a nod. His eyes widened slightly his thoughts shattering as he lent forward his lips crashing against hers in a sloppy but passionate kiss his tongue pressing into her mouth roaming around like it hasn’t been there in years. He wrapped his arm around her gently pushing her to the bed his other hand caressing her head. He pulls away from her pressing his forehead to her’s as they both pant for breath he sighs breathing in her scent. “Sorry..” he mumbled in his gruff voice as he rubbed his cheek against hers before leaning down and rubbing his head against her neck and collarbone trying to get his scent on her and hers on him. His teeth grazed against her neck before licking it gently.

She let out a gasp at the roughness of his tongue on her neck. He sighed sniffing her once more. “Leona?” She said softly. His eyes widened his face flushing once more in embarrassment as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “You smell good..” he said trying to shove his embarrassment away. “Is this a beastman thing? To sniff, lick and rub against each other?” She asked. “We also bite.” He said his mood turning sour his teeth grazing her collarbone as his piercing gaze stared at her neck. She smiled softly a small chuckle leaving her throat before she placed her hands on his head her thumbs gently rubbing his ears while her fingers massaged his head. He closed his eyes loving the feeling of her touch he’ll never admit it though. “So what kind of things did you think about doing.” She asked continuing her movements. “As long as I’m comfortable doing it then it’s ok.” She said. He stared at her for a moment before exhaling and sitting up pulling away from her. He stared down at her hands rested on her chest as she looked up at him her face flushed. His thoughts were scattered as he looked down at her pinned beneath him.

She placed her hands on he’s cheeks. “Leona?” She said softly. He blinked slowly bringing his face down to her neck giving it a long lick before biting down on it. Not hard enough to break skin but still leaving a mark. She let out a moan like gasp. “Ah! Leona, that hurt!!” She said pushing him away quickly before covering the bite mark with her hand. He scoffed with a chuckle as he rubbed the mark with his thumb. “..I wanted to pin you down mark you as mine and fill you with me..” he said his voice low as his hands gripped the bed beneath them. “O-oh my…” she said her face so flushed that it reached her ears as she covered her face with her hands taking a few deep breaths before replying. “T-then fill me with you. J-just slowly please.” She said her gaze meeting his as she placed her hands on his cheeks. He smirked before leaning down and capturing her lips once more biting her lip before slipping his tongue in his hands moving to her hips lifting her shirt his ruff palms moving against her skin as they traveled upward his thumbs slipping under her bra before pushing it up before cupping her breasts his thumbs flicking her nipples slightly earning a muffled gasp from her as she pulls away from him as they both breathe heavily. “Leona..” she says softly kicking off her shoes before pulling him into an embrace her arms wrapping around him as she kissed him. He smirked against her lips and pulled away from her as he slides his hands down to her leggings slipping them off along with her underwear. She presses her thighs together feeling the coolness of the night hit her exposed parts. He kneels on the floor and parts her legs kissing her thighs gently his canines grazing her skin slightly until he reached her slit leaving a long slow lick up to her exposed bud. She gasped and sat up at the unexpected feeling. All he did was smirk and pushed her down bring her exposed slit closer and licking it once more his fingers gently rubbing her opening before prodding it his finger sliding inside while his tongue licks her exposed bud. She quivers slightly squeezing her thighs together as they rest against his head. He continues to lick while he caresses her insides his motions becoming fast. She covered her mouth with a hand letting out a moan. He pulled away with a smirk as he slid in another finger thrusting them faster as he kissed her thigh before leaving another bite. His tongue licking it as she let out a moan her walls clenching around his fingers. He pulls out his fingers purposely dragging his fingers slowly as he wipes them on his pants before putting her thighs down on the bed. She

With her breathing slightly ragged she watches as he moves away from her and leaning over the bed and rummaged through one of the draws before coming back to her and leaning down and whispering in her ear. “Roll over.” He said in a gruff voice just above a whisper before he kissed her once more. She blinked a few times before nodding and rolling over onto her stomach moving so she was on her knees. Let leant down and spoke softly into her ear. “This is your last chance to back out.” He said a hand resting on her hip. She looked back at him with a soft smile. “Just…be gentle..” she says softly her hands gripping the bed covers. He lets out a scoff as he pulls back ripping a condom packet with his teeth mumbling a reply. “I’ll try.” He said letting out a groan as slid the cool condom over his length shuddering slightly at the feeling. He let out a shakily breath as he pressed his length against her wet outer walls. She looked away from him as she felt his tip prod her entrance obviously a lot more girth then his to fingers. He slid inside her wet walls letting out a grunt at the feeling of her heat around him. She bit her lip her walls clenching around him as she let out a sound she was unsure she could make. He grunted as he started to move keeping his pace slow his hands resting on her hips. She gripped the covers more every time he moved letting out soft almost unheard sounds. His ears twitched at those soft sounds as he continued his movements his tail swishing slightly as he leant over her his chest pressed against her back his thrusts speeding up as he wrapped his arms around her one hand groping one of her breasts the other caressing her stomach. She lets out a louder moan his ears twitching at her muffled moans as she hides her face in the bed covers her eyes clenching shut. He scoffs once more as he rubs his cheek against her head and leaving a lick on her neck before biting it once more. Her back arched as she let out a strangled sound before burying her face in the covers again. His thrusts only became more aggressive after that. Her walls clenching around his as he hit all different parts of her insides. His teeth stayed against her skin as his hips slapped into hers his movements rough as his breathing was rugged. She let out a loud low muffled moan her walls clenching around him as she shivered hitting her climax her eyes watering at the feeling of him inside of her. He continued his thrusts his movements staggering slightly as he shuddered as muffled growl like moan reverberating against her skin as he came. His movements stopped as leant against her his body weight enveloping her slightly his ragged breathing against her neck his teeth still pressed into her skin his length still inside of her warm wet walls his tail flicking.

“L-Leona?” She asked trying to turn to look at him the best she could but she could only see his hair. His piercing green gaze unmoving as he stared at nothing in particular. She reached up to try to shake his shoulder but all she could reach was his ear as her fingertips brushing against. “Leona!” She said slightly louder once more trying to get his attention. His eyes shifted around before he realised what he was doing and pulled away from her his eyes landing on the bite mark noticing that it wasn’t bleeding. He gave it a lick before pulling away removing himself from her completely. “Sorry.” He said in his gruff voice as he fixed himself discarding the used condom in the bin. “Get up.” He said she nodded and slowly got up staggering slightly. He pulled her to him before pulling the bed covers down and helping her into the bed before following her pulling them over the two of them. He lets out a huff and wrapped his arms around her and sniffing her content that she smells like him. He relaxes before falling asleep. She sighs but cuddles up next to him knowing that there’s not way she would be able to leave.

~~~

Jesus Christ what the hell did I just write… anyway hope you enjoyed this garbage and requests are always open. Next up is Ruggie hopefully it won’t take me as long to write it but who knows.

#twisted wonderland mc #twistedwonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland leona #twst #twst leona #twst mc #twistedwonderlandxfemalereader #twistedwonderlandxreader #twistedwonderlandxreader smut #smut #twst x reader #twst leona x reader

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g-xix · 1 year

Text

Sidemen NSFW Alphabet | Harry Lewis

Little bit of Harry Lewis smut never did anyone any harm! Let my know whether you wanna see this for more Sidemen- who's next to write the NSFW alphabet for? Let me know, and in the meantime, enjoy this W2S pic:

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex) Sweet boy once all of the sex is done. Gives soft, chaste little kisses against your back and neck and lets you have a moment to recover whilst he runs a bath. Carries you to the bath and sits down before helping you get in with him- your back against his chest, his humming sending vibrations into your body whilst you sit in the comfortable waters, closing your eyes whilst he massages your scalp with shampoo... Super soft aftercare.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's) Made this headcannon before, but probably the tummy. You might be a bit insecure about it, thinking it doesn't look as toned as you want it to- but Harry couldn't care less, in fact, he loves it right where it is. He'd love resting his head on your tummy whilst your on the phone- just so that you can run your hands through his hair and make it all spiky and messed up whilst you talk, him just zoning out to the sound of your pretty voice and enjoying your presence... And sometimes just when spooning or cuddling, Harry reaches around to put his hand on your stomach- just liking the feeling of having something to hold. Always makes you laugh because it's kinda ticklish, but it never stops him from reaching around to touch his fave part of you- showering your stomach in affectionate kisses and rubs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Inside you. Probs started the relationship with condoms but both of you felt it was too restrictive, so you got onto the pill- which was when Harry started his anti-condom phase, absolutely drunk on the feeling of cumming inside you- absolutely insisting to doing it every time. Life's never been the same for him since that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Probably that he likes being dommed every so often. Sometimes he likes brat-taming, other times he just likes being able to be controlled- told to lie back, marked up with hickeys, get praised- sometimes even degraded. Oh god, this man would just love you being vocal in the bedroom. When he's on top and fucking you he's trying to make your neighbours remember his name. And when you're on top of him, hand wrapped around his throat and squeezing it just enough to have his head spinning, he'd want you to tell him how well he's doing, or say those degrading words that only added to the pleasure.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?) Definitely knows what he's doing, like, he isn't inexperienced per say. Can do it and leave you satisfied, but that doesn't mean he isn't gonna try new things. Would wanna discover different things with you just to see whether either of you like them... And probably has a few weird experiences that he brings up every so often as if "Being put in a gimp mask" is an ordinary thing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Depends on his mood- missionary is his all time favourite, but if he's in the mood for it, then cowgirl can't top it. He likes being able to see you- your face and the way your tits bounce every time he thrusts or you ride, when your on top. As we've established, when he feels like being dommed- nothing beats his hands on your waist, supporting each of your bounces whilst he watches your tits jump with each thrust- your hand also strategically wrapped around his neck so that you can lean forwards and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. And when he's horny and has the higher drive than you, he'll pin your hands above your head and pound you in missionary, his other free hand able to roam up and down your body- squeezing your chest or giving extra stimulation to your clit.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Generally, he's quite horny-brained and can only think of pleasuring the two of you. But sometimes, if you're riding and his mind wanders for a moment, he might just let out a "helicopter, helicopter... aaAA-" Which does indeed make you stop so that you can just burst out laughing at him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) There's hair down there. I think generally he's quite comfy with however it is, but occasionally he'll shave it down a bit so that it doesn't become a jungle down there. November's always rough, as he is an active participator in Movember. But as soon as December comes 'round, best believe that man gets SHEARED.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Really very loving. He's passionate and talks dirty when the two of you are clearly insanely horny- but often times he enjoys pressing soft kisses against your body and making eye contact to bask in that beautiful expression you always pull when you're pleasured. Very intimate post-nut as well- will help clean you, tell you that you were amazing, press loads of little chaste kisses to your body...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Can have a wank if you're away doing something, but prefers to just go to you when he's horny. Doesn't like the thought of doing something sexual without you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Hickeying and marking one another up. He loves pulling his shirt off at the end of the day and admiring the possessive marks you'd left across his chest. And he knew the both of you loved seeing those bright red markings across your collarbones and chest whenever he took your top off- and if there weren't any- he'd make sure you left with some.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Bed. It's comfy and he knows what he's doing there. Doesn't like doing it in other rooms because he it feels unnatural and isn't much of an exhibitionist- no, he's quite happy doing it in the bedroom where he's accustomed to whatever you want to do

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Seeing you doing anything that could be mildly sexual. Seeing you bend over to put the oven tray back in? He wants to fuck you bent over. Seeing you on the rodeo machine on a night out? Suddenly he wants you to ride him. Seeing you doing yoga in the bedroom? Suddenly he wants to rip those leggings open and fuck you right then and there.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs) I think he's very experimentalist- down to try a lot of things- but probably not feet. He could laugh about "Gobbling a toe" with his mates, but in reality the thought of a foot anywhere near his face icks him out immensely. Prefers the both of you wearing socks whilst fucking, oftentimes.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Something tells me he'd prefer giving. Getting head was all well and good- but the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his head with a bone-crushing pressure, hips bucking and grinding down- riding his tongue whilst he closes his eyes and laps up your pussy is something that is in his eyes- unparalleled.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast in the fact the both of you are chasing your highs. Sex is mainly for pleasure for the two of you, and so you'll both use each other to cum, before spending proper quality time together afterwards.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Not a fan of them. Likes being relaxed with no time limit on sex with you- nothing's a bigger turn-off for this man than STRESS, and knowing that he has to leave in 5 minutes? The thought of having to fuck in the short space of five minutes is too much for this man.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Happy to experiment when you both have the energy and all the means to try something new... But doesn't like taking real risks. If it can wait, it can wait, and if one of you are likely to get hurt in the process or something, he'd rather not try it. Taking risks is fine with him, unless it involves the possibility something could go wrong and end up harming you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Probably just one round... Doesn't need to go another because he knows overstimulation isn't the biggest kink for the two of you

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) I'm gonna say he doesn't have toys for himself or use them on you. He knows if he's horny he can just go to you, and the same applies to you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Not much, I don't think he'd really tease at all- he'd be too horny and needy to play with you or tease you- instead just fucking you. However when you were in the mood, there was always something special about teasing Harry- giving little signs in public and brushing against him knowing how it made him felt- riling him up made sex even better, somehow, as he pounded you harder than normal, giving stars in your vision

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Not stupidly loud- he lets out grunts and low groans whilst he's on top and leaves you to make all the loud noises. The first time you dommed him, he ended up letting out a little whine. That shocked the both of you, and you both sort of stared at each other for a moment in surprise- but you later admitted you kinda liked that, and so whenever you're domming, he now lets out high whines and sometimes even moans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) One time you decided to experiment with rope. Something about tying you up to the bedframe felt really just morally wrong to him, and he didn't feel comfortable fucking you whilst you were vulnerable like that... But when you gave a go at reversing the roles? When you tied his wrists together behind his back and rode him- leaving hickeys across his collarbones and neck whilst you bounced on his dick- he realised he really liked rope.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes) Probs above average but nothing that'd be unmanageable or insanely big... Something around six inches, maybe a bit more- but thick, and always leaves you filled

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) I think he has a v reasonable sex drive- isn't constantly thinking or needing it. When he does want it though, he's quite needy- constantly asking and pressing kisses to your neck to let you know he needs you

Z = ZZZ (Do they fall asleep straight after? are they tired or still have energy?) I don't think he'd fall straight asleep, but would definitely be tired or lethargic straight after... Lazily gets up to grab some water for you and runs a bath for the two of you to sit in and just relax... Not one to do anything very high energy post-sex

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sinsmockingbird · 7 months

Note

Aight, dis the (F!)MC family with (Yandere!)Yukong request (more like a ramble I guess which you can feel free to adapt to a request/fic as you want) :3

What do you think their children would look like? They'd probably have floofy hairs/tails like Yukong (Foxian/Kitsune genetics I've always thought are probs very strong), and they'd probably grow up very spoiled, by Qingni, who'd I'd imagine would be a great older sister, and by the Astral Express whenever they visit.

I can't help but feel like there'd be some friction there between Yukong and the crew, since the crew might feel something is off about Yukong being overly protective, alongside with Stelle's sudden decision to stay on the Luofu, and Yukong is afraid they might try to take Stelle with them.

I also wonder how Qingni would react to the whole situation in the first place. While she'd probably be very happy to see her mother happy, and to have younger siblings, she might also find Stelle's sudden decision to stay a bit weird (not that'd she'd comment on it).

If Stelle and Qingni grow close during Stelle's stay on the Luofu, I could totally see Yukong using that to further try to convince Stelle to stay, pointing out how they make such a lovely family the three of them together. Something along the lines of, It'd be a shame to throw it all away to go explore, and maybe never get to come back to see them. Who knows, maybe we could give Qingni some younger siblings? She did always want some as a child. Surely it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you somehow ended up pregnant, right?

Sorry for the mess of ideas that this was oeidfvgjherhfgu I had a lot of thoughts after the fic that you made (which I may or may not have read lots of times already). Please feel free to only adapt parts of it/segment it, I can always send other requests in the future with the other sections if they don't mesh well together/get too long if you don't mind.

"PROTECTING" PT.2 | Yukong

PAIRING: Yukong x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Slight NSFW, Yandere!Yukong, Manipulation, Alludes to smut & breeding.

AUTHORS NOTE: I love these little rambles and ideas. I tried to include as many of these as possible, and I'd love to hear any more ideas you have!

WHEN YOUR daughter was first born, she was a perfect mix of you and Yukong, with a fluffy tail and ears being the prominent foxian genes in her. She was immediately spoiled and loved by not only you two but the Astral Express as well. She was quickly welcomed into the family, dotted on by someone almost 24/7.

Welt was quickly deemed her Godfather, and was seen as her grandpa considering the fatherly relationship he had with you. Himeko was her Godmother, and she honestly almost cried when you asked her if she'd like to.

Dan Heng was surprisingly protective over her, despite not really knowing... how to treat her, yet he wouldn't dare let someone harm her, like a protective older brother. March 7th was, as expected, absolutely in love with her, declaring her the cool aunt who buys her so much toys, stuffies, clothes- you name it, March will get it.

Qingni was... interesting. She absolutely loved her little sister when she was born, always quick to care and play with her when she got the chance. She'd do anything for her, spoiling her with all sorts of things just like March.

Yet, despite being happy to have a little sister, Qingni couldn't help the weird feeling she had in her chest. Your sudden decision to stay on the Luofu was certainly... sudden, to say the least, and especially how quickly your relationship with her mother grew. While she was happy for Yukong to have found someone to love, she just found it all weird, but she didn't comment on anything, rather just enjoying the fact she has a younger sibling.

Plus, Qingni found herself getting close to you as well. She was really beginning to see you as another mother, despite not calling you mom yet. Which you didn't mind, you were simply happy to have a good relationship with her.

"You and Qingni seem to be getting along fine." Yukong mused as she moved to hug you from behind, nuzzling her face into your neck.

You laugh softly at her affectionate actions, watching as Qingni entertained her baby sister. "I'd like to think so."

"Trust me, she likes you." Yukong reassured, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple before laying her head on your shoulder. "We make quite a lovely family, don't we? Us four."

You thought for a moment, watching as Qingni stopped her sister from chewing on her tail. "Yeah... yeah we do."

Yukong lifted her head, eyeing you for a moment, seeing the way your eyebrows were furrowed together, sensing that something wasn't right. "Is there something wrong, my love?"

"Hm?" You look at her, before quickly shaking your head, then pausing as you thought for a moment. "Nothings wrong, perse... sorry, I'm just having thoughts about missing the Astral Express."

That made worry strike Yukong like a strike of lightning hitting a tree. It wasn't uncommon for you to find yourself having thoughts of the Astral Express crew as well as missing that adventure with them. It scared the old foxian like no other, because she's tried everything to get you to stay here on the Xianzhou with her.

Her ears pulled back against her head, tail swishing back and forth more behind her. She held a hard look on her face when you looked back to gaze at your daughter and Qingni, and Yukong realized what she had to do again to ensure you would stay here with her.

You let out a sudden gasp as you felt Yukong press her front flush against your back, pressing you against the counter you were both standing behind. You quickly gripped the edge of it, eyes widening and face flushing as you felt her press her face into your neck, inhaling your scent while kissing and nipping at your skin.

"Y-Yukong, the girls!" You quickly whispered it with panic, eyes wide as you watched your guys daughters, praying they didn't look over to see one of their mothers pressed so intimately against the other.

"We're fine, they're too distracted by one another," Yukong reassured, her voice low and sultry as she kissed your neck more.

You whimpered softly, before biting your lip to hold back your sounds, not wanting to alert Qingni. You bowed your head slightly, breathing heavy as you felt Yukong grinding her hips against you from behind, letting you feel her growing bulge under her clothes. Her sudden need for you caught you off guard, but you definitely weren't complaining.

"My love, let's go to our room. The girls will be alright by themselves for an hour or so," Yukong murmured, moving to suck on your ear lobe, nibbling on it and making your face flush more.

"J-Just an hour..?" You ask, tilting your head slightly back towards her.

"Just an hour," Yukong repeated, but she had other plans. She was going to keep you locked in your room for however long she wanted, thoroughly breeding you again.

Because there's no way you'd leave the Xianzhou, leave her, if you have a second, maybe third or forth child, right? You wouldn't dare do that to her.

She was going to make sure you'd never leaver.

ENDING NOTES: Sorry this is short! I wanted to keep this part mostly SFW. But I'll maybe do a part 3 if it's asked for.

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟsins writings #honkai star rail #honkai fluff #yukong #hsr!yukong #dom!yukong #yukong x you #yukong x reader

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jasmines-library · 8 months

Note

batfam with the youngest robin (prob 12-13) who gets kidnapped by the joker during a mission and a year or so later the joker reveals the kid who is now brainwashed to be the joker jr

i was thinking like maybe how they’d react and maybe that they can rescue y/n and un-brainwash them and like comfort them and stuff

if not that’s fine i don’t mind!!! i can also like explain better if needed lol

The Stranger In The Mirror.

Note: You guys literally send in the best requests, I took inspo from Batman Beyond where this happens to Tim but I also added my own little twists as always.

Warnings: Torture (graphic), brainwashing, manipulation, drugging, breakdown basically hurt not comfort (poor reader is going through it all in this one.)

Word count: 2.5k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“Help! Somebody please!”

You heard the cry before you saw what was happening. A female voice begging desperately for help, pleading for mercy as the two men backed her against the wall of the alley. They stalked towards her menacingly and you could see the way her face contorted with a fear that gripped her so tight as she moved feebly in an attempt to get past the two men. But they were large and between them took up most of the alley so that it was nearly impossible for her to slip past, and even if she did they would be on her in a second.

Using your grappling hook to secure a line on a nearby railing, you propelled yourself down from the rooftop. Before your feet hit the floor, you took the crooks out with a well placed blow that sent them crumpling to the ground like a sack of flour. Resheathing your hook, you turned to the woman.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

She smiled, looking at you from under the brim of her hat with an all too familiar smile “Much better now you’re here.”

A brief flash of recognition crossed over your face, obscured by your mask as you realised who those brown eyes belonged to but you had no time to act on it before she hit you on the back of the head. Hard. With a manic laugh.

“Night night, Birdy.”

When you awoke, you were laying on something cold. A piece of metal that you had been bound to by ropes that burned against your wrists and feet as you struggled to free yourself. The table was tilted at an angle that allowed you to squint against your throbbing head to take in your surroundings. The room you were in was well lit and seemed surprisingly sterile given the situation. Strange concoctions of colours that made you grimace hung on the walls and bubbled away in tubes on one of the many workbenches across the room. The tools made your stomach churn. But then you saw him.

Perched all high and mighty in a chair opposite you the Joker had sprawled himself out across a chair, flashing you one of his sickening, signature grins.

“Hiya, Birdy!” He stood with glee, making his way over to you with a spring in his step-almost like he was skipping.

“Why the hell am I here, Joker?” You spat at him, baring your teeth.

“Can’t a guy just hang out with his favourite vigilante?” He mused, turning away from you as he began organising things on the desk that you couldn’t see, you tugged in the restraints to try and catch a glimpse of them.

“Cut the crap.”

“You all really are no fun.” He rolled his eyes “Not to worry that’ll all change soon when I morph you into the perfect weapon. Me.”

“What?”

“Well, what’s better than one of me? Two of me. And you little bird, know all the ways to destroy your pesky family.”

“I’m not going to tell you shit.”

He shrugged, turning back to you with a pair of jump leads in hand. “We’ll see.”

Walking towards you with a grin he attached them to the table before reaching towards the dial. You thrashed desperate to break free but the ropes securing you in place allowed no leeway for you to move. When his fingers brushed the dial and the voltage came flooding through the wires, you let out a blood curdling scream. The pain was everywhere as your body arched, twitched and writhed against the rope. It burned at your skin, drawing blood and forming blisters against your wrists and your ankles. When the current finally stopped and you fell slack against the restraints your diaphragm jerked and spluttered against each pain filled gasp.

“Are you ready to talk now?”

They realised very quickly that you were missing. You hadn’t returned home after your patrol. They tried not to let the worry get the best of them, but this was Gotham. They waited, watching the seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, but there was no sign of you. You were gone.

Everyone was on high alert. For three, agonising weeks they searched every inch of Gotham, using every possible connection they had but no one found any leads. Tim was growing frustrated, hacking into every database he could find as Bruce and the other boys scoured the city. But you were gone without a trace. That was until one tedious Wednesday morning, the batcave received an urgent call.

Your head was fuzzy. Whatever the Joker had dozed you with this time was really taking a toll on you.

Your head hung low resting against your chest as you breathed slowly, trying to push away the fuzziness in your brain. Your entire body had grown numb; now too used to the pain it had been put through, too weak to hold yourself up as you lay slack against the table and although all dosed up now you may not be able to feel anything, you would never be able to forget the endless torment he had put you through; that would forever be etched into your mind.

The screams still seemed to ricochet off of the walls, burying themselves into each crack just to resurface once it went quiet. The feeling of your skin being torn apart still lingered, the pinch followed by the burn as the Joker slashed you with his weapons, screaming at you to tell him all that you knew about Batman. Of course, you refused at first. Oh how you were so brave trying to hold your tongue. But you couldn’t help the screams that ripped from your mouth and left your throat raw and soon when they layers of your mind had been peeled away by the cruel hallucinations he put you through with his serums and his words, you soon began to crack; your fragile body unable to take anymore of this torture.

Your wrists had been burnt red raw; the trails of blood tracked down your arms and mixed with dirt and blood, showing where it had beaded down your forearms as you struggled. Burned with tears your anguish was clear amongst your struggle and you were pretty sure that you had at least three broken ribs and four missing fingernails. Maybe more.

But you were growing to like the pain somewhat. Because it meant that you were still alive. It meant that your family was on your way…or… had they stopped looking for you.

The Joker's cruel words rang through your hazy mind. He had told you about the video he had sent to them. How there was no response. They didn’t care. None of them did or you would have been home right now. He had injected you with something as he said it, but you swatted off the prick of the needle as though it were a pesky mosquito bite.

“Soon,” He told you as the drug settled into the numbness of your body. “You will realise that I am helping you. That I am the only one that cares for you. Not Batman. Not any of those pesky Birds. Me.” he hovered in the doorway just before he left. “I’ll be back, Junior.” Junior. He had stopped calling you by your name recently.

And as much as you didn’t want to agree with the man who had put you and your family through so much…you were beginning to believe it. The Joker had dragged you away from a life cycle of patrol and ending crimes. He was giving you a place to stay when your family had so clearly given up on you. The Joker had confided so much in you in your time together that you felt like you almost knew him personally. And it had made you think that… he was misunderstood. Lonely. Much more similar to you than-

No.

No. No. No. You shook the thoughts from your head. ‘They’re coming.’ you told yourself. ‘But…’

Your mind was fighting itself now, conflicted between what you knew and what you were being told. Fighting between your family and the man who stood constantly before you. It fought until one side finally inched free and you realised something.

The Joker.

The Joker was right. He was helping you.

When he returned to you that night, you greeted him with a dumb smile. He was glad to see that his plan had worked. That he had broken you down enough to mould you into exactly what he wants.

He grinned manically. He could now move onto phase two: training you to kill The Bat. This stage would be considerably easier. You already knew Batman’s weaknesses; you had admitted that during one of the electroshock sessions. He just had to convince you that Batman was the real enemy. The only thing left to do besides that was lure him over to you. Which should’ve been easy enough.

Tim shot up from his seat the moment your face flashed up on the screen. Somehow, someone had overridden the computer’s controls and he was now staring at your bloodied and beaten face lolling against a metal table.

“Bruce!” Tim cried, scrambling to grab the attention of his father.

Bruce had never moved faster across the cave than he did to reach Tim, his stomach dropping when he saw the screen, with him came the rest of his sons who too were alerted by the shout.

Tim didn’t have to say anything else as they all gathered around to look queasily at the screen. You weren’t moving as the live stream played and this only worried your family more, but then an all too familiar green hair came into frame walking towards you menacingly.

Bruce felt sick when he saw you flinch and try to squirm away from the Joker’s touch.

“Smile for the camera.” He said, gripping your hair so that they could see your face. You blinked slowly permanent tears scarring your face amongst the blood and dirt.

“I hope you’re watching Batsy. You’re about to see the end of your little bird.”

Dick, who bit his lip anxiously as he observed instinctively gripped Damians shoulders and tried to push him away as the Joker reached for the dial again. They saw your body react despite its weakened state; legs kicking and trying as you tried to scramble away. But Damian refused to leave, especially when his little sibling was in this state. It was horrific, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the screen so he watched shell shocked. That was until your first scream cut through all of them and he turned away. Dick pulled him close as he screwed his eyes shut and Jason clenched his fists.

“Tim.” Bruce ordered “Turn it off. Find a signal.”

“I’m trying.” He said “But…there is no signal and something is overriding the controls.”

Bruce ran his hands through his hair until after an agonising few minutes, your screams stopped.

The Joker moved swiftly for a syringe which you didn’t even react to as he injected it into your system. Not good.

“They’re not coming for you, birdy. They don’t care.” The Joker taunted before turning back towards the camera. With one manic laugh he gave a final bow and the signal fizzled out.

The five of them stood there in complete silence. All silent. Most angry. Most heartbroken.

“Suit up. We don’t stop until we find them.”

By the time the vigilantes arrived, you were ready. Poised on the top floor of Arkham’s abandoned asylum cafeteria.

You had seen Batman arrive, sauntering furiously into the open room to where Joker had positioned himself. You had seen the other four sneak in too, wrapping themselves around the room and slinking throughout the asylum in search of you.

Once Joker had riled up the Bat enough to send him on a chase to him around a loop of the asylum, you jumped down from the bannister with a conniving grin.

“I know you’re all in here.” You laughed. And soon, one after the other your brothers appeared from the shadows gawping at the stark contrast of your appearance. You were skinnier and clearly injured from head to toe, but what struck them the most was the purple and green that the Joker had donned you in.

“R…” Red hood warned as he stepped toward you. “We don’t wanna hurt you. We just want to take you home.”’

You raised your weapon. “Liar!”

“No kid. We wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Red Robin said.

“You left me. You didn’t come back for me and you left me here to rot!” You gritted your teeth.

“That’s not true. That’s the joker talking.” Damian.

“He is helping me! He is helping me reach my full potential- I am already so much more than I was before.”

You raised the pistol. It was loaded and you knew that it would do damage. That was the intention. And that's what you were going to do. You were going to take them out one by one until they get what they deserve-

“R…” Dick said as you raised the gun your finger inching towards the trigger. “You know us Little Wing. We’re your big brothers.”

You moved swiftly, dodging them as they moved closer in sync. One of them reached out to try and grab you, but you gripped his arm and threw him over your shoulder. The five of you tussled until everything paused when Batman burst back into the room.

Your gun was pointed at him in an instant, locking in on him as you readied your stance and poised your finger on the trigger. no one said anything. No one even dared to breathe. Bruce just looked at you from behind his cowl as you grinned at him, sickeningly mirroring the villain who appeared behind him sending him keeling to the ground. You laughed.

“Do it.” Joker urged.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Your hand trembled as you looked down at him pleading at you. He looked so…vulnerable. And your mind screamed at you. Wrongwrongwrong. You were torn again. This was Bruce…your father. Your family. Your enemy-

“Do it, Junior.” He pressed. Your lip trembled.

Do it. No. Do it- You wanted to scream.

“R.” Batman uttered one single letter.

You pulled the trigger. No one moved. A cry of pain rang out across the room. The Joker dropped to the floor.

You let out a sob and dropped to your knees realisation catching up on you. A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you to their chest as you completely broke down.

“It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. We’ve got you now.”

Everything hurt. Everything was so disgustingly wrong. You had tried to kill Bruce- you had given away your secrets… you let out an unholy sob.

“Shh.” Jason cooed. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.”

“Everyone is okay, Little wing.” Damian promised, taking your bloodied hand gently and tracing circles across the back of it. “We can fix this…”

Batfam Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

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